In the Shadows
by Kurenaino
Summary: A series of One-shots and drabbles based on From Grace, I Fall and From Darkness, I Rise, and the as of yet named sequel, suggested by you guys, and written by me!
1. Reflections

**AN:** **Alright, some of you guys asked for it, so here it is. Based on From Grace, I Fall and From Darkness, I Rise, and the as of yet named sequel, this will be a collection of one-shots that cover varying perspectives of different chapters, or scenes that fill in time gaps, or anything else that you guys want to see or know more about. Just let me know in the comments what you want, and I'll get it done. These should be a fair bit shorter than my usual chapter length, so I should be able to get them out daily and/or in between chapters of the next story I'm writing. Really, this is just giving me some time to come up with a format I like for the next part. It's tricky.**

 **This one's brought to you by BenArchive, over on ao3. Thanks man. You're the greatest!**

 _Reflections_

They called him Obi-Wan Kenobi. The Sithkiller. The Legendary Padawan. The Bane of the Dark Side. There were so many other names for the boy, it was difficult to remember them all, especially when new ones popped up every day when the Padawans gathered around and discussed the boy, his deeds so great, he was Knighted without undergoing the Trials, his fight so spectacular that it was on the datapad of every initiate in the Temple, a page out of a story so heroic that younglings ran about with sticks as they acted out that fateful fight on Naboo. To the Masters, the implications of that fight were dire and disturbing, an undercurrent of _something_ in the Force, far off and nondescript that they couldn't sense, a feeling of something terribly wrong that was just out of reach, like the electric, heavy feeling in the air before a storm.

But to the younger Knights that served as Kenobi's peers, to the Padawans that aspired to his example, to the younglings and initiates that dreamt of becoming the student of a legend, it was all fun and games, the far-reaching implications lost in favor of a story of heroism, of good that triumphed over evil, of a tale that harkened back to the height of the Jedi's power in the Old Republic, when the mighty warriors of the Force had destroyed the evil Sith Lords once and for all. It was a good thing that the young knight in question was a quiet, studious, humble lad, if not a bit defiant like his Master had been, or such praise might get to his head.

But to _Obi-Wan_...to Obi-Wan, the feeling the Masters felt in the distant wasn't just some far off warning. It was very real, very present, and _very_ close, gripping him with a feeling of cold that seemed to freeze him down to his bones, and Mace Windu had _felt_ it, seen it in the boy's mind, and knew it to be the Dark Side. How this Padawan had felt the Dark Side so strongly when the Masters could not was beyond him. On the surface, there was nothing exceptional about Obi-Wan Kenobi besides the strength of his determination. He was dedicated, steadfast, a terribly hard worker, but his Master Qui-Gon had never said the boy was particularly... _gifted_. Not like the nine year old Force nexus he had found on Tatooine, the young Anakin Skywalker, who now, against the Council's prior judgement, was being trained as a Jedi, Padawan to Qui-Gon Jinn when Obi-Wan had been Knighted.

Perhaps because of his ordeal, Obi-Wan had ventured into Sith Space to look for the missing Sith Master, a task that took him across the galaxy on a mission that lasted over a year and saw him return with accusations against Count Dooku, a former Jedi Master that had left to study the Force on his own when the politics of the Republic became too disagreeable to him. Dooku was the Sith Lord, Tyranus, Kenobi had said, but nobody believed it. Mace didn't _want_ to believe it. Dooku was an old man, and had been with the Jedi most of his life. If he was Sith, the Jedi would know. His old Master, Yoda, would know, but nobody sensed anything. Nobody but Obi-Wan.

After a year of the Council sitting deadlocked, unable to agree on a course of action or a solution, unable to confirm Kenobi's suspicions, but unwilling to outright deny them, the Jedi Masters finally moved to take action against the ancient enemy of the Jedi that had been absent for the better part of two years, to do something to investigate the dark presence they sensed approaching. There was no better Jedi to send than Obi-Wan Kenobi, if for nothing else, to ease his fears about Dooku. Mace had gone himself to prepare Obi-Wan for the mission in the best way he knew how: preparing for the worst.

The stubborn Jedi had taken a beating from the Korun Master, and though Kenobi's friends had considered the lesson needlessly harsh, Mace had done what he did because something _did_ seem wrong. Because Obi-Wan's evidence was _good_ , his reasoning sound, and the story he had put forth to the Council about Dooku's true nature had been frightening in its implications. It was _very_ likely that someone had been manipulating Obi-Wan, that his time in Sith Space had put him in contact with the Dark Side, that his frightful trial on Naboo had him jumping at shadows, and his evidence was a long list of very convenient coincidences. And when the Force was involved, unrelated coincidences just didn't happen. There was something to what Obi-Wan was claiming, and Mace was going to do everything in his power to see to it that, if Dooku _was_ Sith, Obi-Wan could cut him down.

If Mace was hard on the young Knight, it was because he believed in him, because he sensed great things from the first Jedi to kill a Sith in a thousand years, because his expectations for what he would become were great. In Obi-Wan, there was a great deal of defiance, and he and Mace clashed, loudly and often, a sign of a man that was both passionate about what he believed, and would stand by what he knew to be right. He was... _rough_ , true, but with time and tempering, Mace saw Obi-Wan Kenobi as rising not just to the rank of Jedi Master, but to sitting beside the greatest of the Order on the Council. He was young and defiant, but followed the Code so strictly that he was often heard muttering it under his breath in times when he sought peace. Qui-Gon never made it on the Council because of his disregard of the Code, but Obi-Wan would, and it would be a breath of fresh air. The Council would benefit from a fresh, young perspective.

And then came Serenno.

Obi-Wan had seemed hesitant, uncertain in his final communication, and it was enough to send four Jedi, one exceptionally skilled Master among them, to meet Kenobi on Serenno and bring Dooku in. The fact that Obi-Wan made it out of what must have been a _very_ tense meeting gave Mace the hope he needed to see Dooku returned to Coruscant for a proper interrogation by Grandmaster Yoda, and five Jedi should easily be able to accomplish such a task. After all, if he _was_ Sith, he had let Obi-Wan go when he was almost certainly accused. Destroying his cover by killing Jedi was clearly not a part of his plan, if something sinister was afoot.

They had called him Sithkiller. _Legend_. But on that day, the Jedi called him by new names.

 _Martyr. The Fallen Hero. The Lost Knight_. Anything, _anything_ to keep his name from touching Jedi lips, as if it were cursed, as if saying it would invite bad things upon the Jedi, his very name a way to summon the Sith to exact their revenge.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was dead, along with the four Jedi that had been sent to their fate on Serenno.

"Master Windu." Mace quickly looked up from his place on the comfortable seat in the small, peaceful private quarters belonging to the tiny Jedi that sat before him. "Troubled, you are."

"Isn't everyone?" he asked softly, looking down at his hands in his lap. It had only been two weeks since Dooku had disappeared. Two weeks since the Jedi stormed Serenno by force, as they should have done from the beginning. Two weeks since they had witnessed the horrors within the magnificent palace on a planet that was far too beautiful for something so gruesome to occur.

"Your fault, this is not, Mace," Yoda said softly. They have had this conversation before. _Many_ times.

" _Isn't it_?" Master Windu spat back, far harsher than intended. Emotions weren't denied to Jedi completely, they weren't _droids_. They were just expected to master them, to let things go when it was time, but for Master Windu, it _wasn't_ time. He was grieving, yes, but above all else was the undercurrent of remorse he felt. He had done this. He had been responsible for coordinating Kenobi's missions, _he_ had called four other Jedi in to help him when something clearly felt wrong and demanded the attention of the most powerful Masters in the Order on the off-chance that Kenobi had been right all along.

"Five Jedi are dead because of me," he said quietly, picking at his fingernails to avoid having to look at Yoda. He _shamed_ the Grandmaster, or should have. "I sent them to their deaths, _me_." He scoffed. " _Bring Dooku in_ , I told him. How could I have been so stupid..."

"Faith, you had, in his abilities," Yoda said, pointing his stick at the other Master. "Believed in Obi-Wan, you did."

"...yes." Windu covered his face with his hand. "I can still see the bodies," he said, pained and breathless. "Every time I close my eyes, I see them, I _smell_ what it was like in that room. I failed Obi-Wan, and my failure led him to death and... _dismemberment_ , the desecration of his body..." He hissed in his frustration and gripped his knees tightly, his fingers digging into his skin so hard he was certain that his dark skin would be visibly bruised. "I should have gone with him. As the one in charge of his missions, I _should have been there_ , if for nothing else, to get that... _snake Dooku_!" he spat.

"Difficult, your task was, Master Windu," Yoda said. "The best you could, you did."

"And it _still_ wasn't enough." Mace sighed deeply, the room silent, save for the soft ringing of the singing stones in the fountain he kept, a calming thing that was doing nothing for the guilt-ridden Korun. "I should have listened to him. I should have _known_ to listen. He felt the Dark Side the way none of us could. If anyone had the right instincts about the Sith, it was him."

Yoda slowly nodded. "Darkness, there is, just beyond reach," he said, soft and solemn. "Sense it, we cannot, but in time, reveal itself, it will. Patient, we must be."

"It's _Dooku_ ," Mace growled, almost on reflex, and he winced as soon as he said it. "It's... _difficult_ to sit here and do nothing. It's one thing to have dead Jedi on our hands, but the _Sith_ -"

"Difficult, the Jedi Way is," Yoda quickly interrupted. "In pain, all of us are, for Obi-Wan. For Sar Labooda. For the others we have lost. For Dooku, fallen to the Dark Side. Try us, these times will. Tested, will be the strength of the Jedi. Worse, will Sith evil do in the future."

Mace nodded and was silent, his hands slowly wringing together in his guilt. "Obi-Wan deserved so much better," he finally said. "I had such high hopes for him. Maybe if I wasn't so hard on him, he would have trusted me more." He hissed as he shook his head. "I just hope he didn't suffer for long. Nobody deserves that."

Yoda smiled gently. "Similar, you two were. Stubborn."

"Yes, perhaps..." He ran a hand over his bald head and at last looked up, gazing out the window that overlooked the courtyard where funeral pyres burned just days before for their fallen brothers. "I saw Qui-Gon the other day. He still isn't talking."

"Pain, there was, between Obi-Wan and him," Yoda quietly explained. "Hope, he had, to soothe that pain. Gone, that is now. Recover from this, he may not. Loved his student, Qui-Gon did, though difficult, their relationship had become."

"His Master killed his student," Mace said softly, shaking his head in dismay. "I can't imagine anything worse. He suffered two _very_ personal losses." He sighed deeply. "They're losses we all share. I think recovery will be difficult for all of us, not just him. Obi-Wan's death is more than just a single loss, it's a herald of things to come. The Sith are back, Master Yoda. We knew it on Naboo, but there has been no sign of them in _years_. So many of us had hopes that was the only one."

Yoda grunted and closed his eyes in concentration, his ears pulled back as he touched the Force. "Darkness, there is," he said softly. "Closer than before. Greater meaning, has Obi-Wan's death. Effect the Jedi, this will, for a long time. In shadows, now falls our destiny."

"So what do we do?"

"Study, we must," Yoda said firmly. "Learn from Obi-Wan, we still can. The datablock, recovered from Dromund Kaas, we have." Yoda jabbed his stick into Mace's chest. "And your fault, this is not."

"Keep telling me that and maybe one day, I'll believe it," Mace mumbled as he stood. "I've taken up enough of your time, Master Yoda. Thank you for seeing me."

"Better, do you feel?"

"...no. I will, but not yet. The fact of the matter was that Obi-Wan was my responsibility, and now he is dead. I'll carry that with me when I make decisions in the future." He bowed deeply. "Goodnight, Master." Mace turned to leave, but stopped when he felt the Force tug at him, and he turned to face the tiny Master, a kind smile on his face.

"Same time tomorrow, we shall meet?" Yoda asked softly, like he had asked the Korun every single day since they had started meeting like this, every day since they had seen the mangled bodies of their brothers and sisters on Serenno, every single day since Mace had felt he failed, not just Obi-Wan, but the Jedi Order.

A small smile came to Mace's otherwise cold face. "Same time tomorrow, Master Yoda. See you in the morning."


	2. Rescue

**AN:** **Obi-Wan rescues Padme from Coruscant, away from the clutches of an increasingly brutal Anakin Skywalker.**

 **This one takes place between Chapter 107 and 108 of From Darkness, I Rise. I really enjoyed writing this one. Another one shot tomorrow, I think, the next chapter of the main story is slow going.**

 **Also, Ev the Werewolf made art. I wanna see it. Get an account man, link me up! We wanna see it!**

 **This one suggested by TheRealAlgeri. Thanks, man, it was a great suggestion! As were your others, I'll be writing those ones too!**

 _Rescue_

Darth Lumis wrapped his heavy black cloak around him as he made his way through the bustling city of Coruscant, a dark shadow concealed entirely by the blanket of night. He walked slowly, methodically down the winding pathways of the park in the Senatorial District, his ship parked and concealed in a nearby hangar, a place that afforded a great deal of privacy and care for the wealthy politicians that kept their personal ships and speeders there. It was a fine time to practice skills that he had learned and yet remained truly untested, things he felt that one day, he would need. And so, he had calmed himself, a thing that had been difficult in the past months as his mind had raged out of control with insanity, and focused, drew in the darkness and surrounded himself in its black protection.

He moved unseen through the park, passing by joggers and couples and groups of chattering people, and not a one took notice of him, not a one could see him or sense him. It was pleasing to be little more than a shadow to these people, and it suited him, though there weren't the people he needed to hide from. A Jedi would be able to sense him, most likely. Even someone who was mildly Force sensitive should at least detect that something was there, even if they couldn't _actually_ see him. It was a talent he would need to develop, though he suspected he'd need a level of mastery as of yet unknown to him in order to pull it off.

He stayed concealed, slow and silent as he made his way toward 500 Republica, as he had done every week since Padmé's pregnancy brought her to and past the point that Satine had been before she was slaughtered. It was a foolish thing to do, perhaps, irrational, maybe, but Padmé wasn't safe, the little twins weren't safe. Safer than Satine had been, perhaps, but Kenobi hadn't been there for her when he needed to be. To keep people safe, Kenobi needed to keep them close, and while Padme seemed to be in no danger, he wouldn't risk her or the twins by being inattentive. If something was wrong, he would know, and he would deal with it. Nothing like what happened to Satine would happen to those he loved again. Not to Padmé, not to the Force blessed twins, not to Yoda, not to Cody, not to Quinlan. Not to _anyone_.

Kenobi walked up to the entrance of the massive, stately building, a slight wave of his fingers and a quiet command to the security detail getting him quick access, and he walked inside and made his way to the elevator, slipped the card key that Padmé gave him into the reader, and a moment later, he was shooting upwards toward the Naboo Senator's floor. He closed his eyes and reached out with the Force to feel for the presence of his Master, the Chancellor keeping apartments here in the building as well. Sidious had deliberately not been made aware of his continued dalliance with Padmé. Lumis had told him that her child was not only not his, but it wasn't Force sensitive either, and therefore no longer held an interest to the Sith Lord. Lumis was to divert his attention and make a child on a different woman, one he believed would produce a child to rival Kenobi's first, but Obi-Wan had done no such thing. He was protecting _twins_ , and twins powerful in the Force no less. Padmé didn't just deserve his attention, she required it. The Force willed it so.

Lumis didn't sense the presence of his Master nearby, so at the very least, he wasn't in the building, a great relief as he stepped out of the elevator, slipped the card into the reader beside the door, and entered his mistress' apartment, the door swiftly shutting behind him with a soft hiss. The hour was late, and the lights in the foyer had been dimmed, and while the woman may have been asleep, her protocol droid was not, and approached him with his stiff gait. Kenobi sighed wearily. Usually, he'd be making a game of messing with the prissy thing, but tonight, something felt... _off_. He frowned as the golden droid stopped before him, beginning with his polite greetings, followed by the request to please, make himself comfortable while he contacted the authorities. Kenobi waved his hand and shut him off with the Force as he passed. He had no desire to deal with droids today.

The lights were off in the bedroom when he entered, and he could see the woman laying in her bed, his golden eyes glowing in the dark and never leaving her as he shrugged off his cloak. That feeling, the unease, the nagging he had felt before suddenly erupted, and he could feel his heart beating in his chest. He slammed his hand on the light controls, the room brightening instantly, but the Senator didn't move, which was _highly_ unusual. She was a light sleeper as it was, and her uncomfortable pregnancy made it even worse. Obi-Wan rushed to her side, knelt beside the bed and swiftly took her hand, relived to feel her skin warm, her pulse slow and even in rest, but her eyes were half opened, hazy and distant as if she had been _broken_.

He quickly laid his hand on her stomach, felt for the twins, and felt _nothing_ , the woman shivering underneath him as he tried to grasp for their hidden light, and quickly stopped when he felt the woman was shivering in _fear_. He had to take a step back, releasing her from his grasp, both physical and mental as he calmed himself, slowed his heart that beat hard in his chest with rage and hatred, sending the Dark Side rushing through his blood. Sky walker had been here. _Skywalker had done this_. But _why_! Did he suspect her? Did he try to reach within her to grasp at the truth of her infidelity?

When Kenobi was calmed, he knelt beside her once again, took her hand and gently stroked her cheek, and she winced under his touch for a moment before he sized her with the calm of the Force, and her body went limp against the mattress. He breathed deeply as he prepared to slowly, _gently_ pry her mind open, but found that her natural resistance lay in tatters, a lock blown to shrapnel with explosives, a brutish thing that had required a delicate hand. He slipped inside her with no effort at all, the woman groaning softly as he did, and he quickly set to work, carefully collecting the pieces and trying to fit them all together.

He had never had to _repair_ a mind before. Usually, there was a reason to break the minds he did, a punishment or revenge for a personal slight, or simple cruelty, if that was what he lusted after, but _this_ was new to him. A Jedi learned early how to mentally defend against intruders, were made aware of the importance and fragility of the mind at an early age. Anyone could be influenced and manipulated, and young Force sensitive were naturally resistant, but not immune, and so they began their training early. While breaking them was still a delicate thing, a tricky lock that needed to be skillfully picked, an art that needed practice and refinement to be done right, their training and natural walls allowed them not only to take a fair amount of abuse before they broke, but to recover quickly from it.

This was not the case with _normal_ people, those unfortunates who couldn't feel the Force. Their resistance was based on their willpower, their intelligence, but with no knowledge of how the mind could be infiltrated, they had no way to defend against intrusion. They were open. Fragile. _Delicate_. And Skywalker had taken a hammer to Padmé, a hard, crushing hand when only the lightest touch was needed. He clearly had no skill in the fine art of mental domination, hadn't learned the subtleties of the mind trick from Qui-Gon, and in this area, at least, it seemed as though Skywalker was just... _untalented_. Kenobi couldn't help but smile at that. In that, at least, he was superior to the boy that had replaced him.

Obi-Wan tried to get a glimpse of what had happened, but he found the girl's mind a confused mess, dark and shadowed by a thick veil of fear, and it took Obi-Wan a while to realize that the fear she felt wasn't coming from _her_ mind, it was coming from the _Force_. From the _twins_. They were afraid, and they were using that fear to protect their mother and _keep him out_. With a frown, he swiftly withdrew. There was nothing to be done.

"Padmé," he said softly, gently shaking her shoulder, and with a gasp, her eyes snapped up to him, her chest heaving with suddenly quick breathing, and as if seeing him for the first time, she threw her arms around his neck with a strangled cry. He held her close and pressed his lips to her cheek, a hand running through her hair as he breathed the sweet floral scent in deeply. He looked down to her thin shoulder, his breath catching when he saw the shadow of a bruise upon her. With a frown, he held her out at arm's length, his gold eyes roving over the dark bruises that ran the length of her arms, and looked back to her face when his examination was complete. Her eyes drifted, unable to focus on him or on anything at all, and though she kept coming back to him, her gaze never stayed.

"Take off your clothes," he softly commanded, a low growl in his voice, and this time, she _did_ look at him, her brown eyes wide with fright, and she _shivered_. Gently, Obi-Wan ran his fingers down her bruised arm. "I need to see the damage. Do you trust me?"

"O-obi-Wan, I," she began, but quickly stopped and shook her head. "Anakin was...he said..." Padmé whimpered and grasped her head. "He said...I-I don't know what he said, I-"

" _Focus_ ," Kenobi said harshly, and her attention returned almost violently, her eyes wide and her pulse racing, though she hardly dared to breathe. He reached up and touched her cheek, ran his thumb over the soft, pale skin, and he felt her slowly relax as he urged the Force to calm her. He knew it wouldn't work to calm her mind, but her body relaxed. "Do you trust me?" he whispered, his voice smooth and soothing, and slowly, Padmé nodded, whimpering softly as she pulled off her nightgown.

They were everywhere. Hard, dark shadows of a tight, unyielding hand, so telling in their placement and so stark upon her pale skin. They told a story far better than her scattered mind could. _He_ had not done this. Since he had first felt the twins reach out and touch him, the tendrils of their presence worming deep within him, he had only touched their mother with the gentle touch of a lover, not the beast of passion that he was. Even their lusty joining had been tempered, almost as if by the Force itself, the snarling Dark Side that craved the explosive, heedless fury of passion had been leashed by slow, gentle thrusts that left him itching for more after he had reached his peak. It was frustrating, took longer for the Dark Side to lay down sated, but he did it for her. He did it for _them_.

No, _this_ was Skywalker's work.

She needed to get out, _now_. Before he became more violent. Before he slaughtered more than just an entire village of strangers.

The twins were in danger. He could _feel it_.

"Padmé..." Kenobi said softly, cupping her cheek and smiling gently, trying to reach out to her again, but he was quickly stopped. The Force would not allow _anything_ through. The twins were scared and did not understand that fear blocked out comfort as well as further pain. "We need to get out."

"Out?" she muttered, looking at him with hazy eyes that seemed to refuse to stay looking at him. "Out where..."

"Out of _here_ ," he said, taking her hands in his. "Out of this city and far away from here. To Serenno or Mustafar or Raxus or _anywhere but here_."

It seemed to get through to her, and for a moment, Padme's eyes were clear, her focus caused by fear, but at least it was focus. "Obi-Wan," she said, her voice trembling. "The massacre..." Kenobi tensed, and he took his hands away from her before they could close tightly around hers. He may have made a mistake, may have misjudged his ability to take her from here. The slaughter on Stewjon was all anyone was talking about, and they were saying it was _him_ that did it. And why shouldn't they? He was brilliantly set up. He had forgotten, of course, because he was _innocent_.

In a moment, all his doubts fled him, the Senator's small hand reaching up to touch his bearded cheek. "It wasn't you," she said, a small smile on her lips, her eyes unfocusing as her body relaxed. "It wasn't you, I never believe it was you..."

"It wasn't," Kenobi said swiftly, reaching out to quickly take her hands, but stopped when the sudden movement made her wince. A hard touch was evident upon her body, but the flinching, her fearful countenance, _all of it_ was coming from her terrified children. Instead, he settled on very lightly brushing her sides with his callused hands, a soft smile on his lips as she shivered and quickly relaxed and allowed him to draw closer. "Come away with me," he said, reaching up to stroke her cheek, her neck, her breasts, and slowly, despite the fear in her eyes, she leaned into his touch for comfort that she could not feel.

"I can't..." she began softly. "The Senate-"

"The Senate is a disgusting mess of idle indulgence and greed. I think it can do without Padmé Amidala."

She shook her head. "This is my duty, Obi-Wan," she said in a voice that trembled far too often. "Sometimes I think it'll all collapse if I'm not around to help hold it up. I've always put my duty first, I _have_ to stay."

"And what about your duty as a mother?" Padmé sucked in a short breath and trembled as she looked into soft, golden eyes. Kenobi slid his hand into her hair, leaned over, and gently put his lips to hers. She didn't move. "It isn't safe here. Not for you or your children. Come with me, and I'll keep you close. I can keep you _safe_. Skywalker will never find you, he will _never_ hurt your child." She laid a trembling hand on her stomach, her eyes never leaving the Sith Lord's face, and without warning, she pressed her lips against his, hard and desperate, frantic and fearful and so, _so_ grateful. And that was all it took. Padmé was a good mother, her duty to her child coming above herself, the Republic, _everything_.

"Do you promise?" she whimpered, her little hands clinging tightly to his robes as she pulled him in closer, her pale skin flushed as he gently touched her.

"I promise. No harm will ever come to your child so long as I'm around."

"I-I have handmaidens," she stuttered, starting to slide off the bed until a gentle hand wrapped around her wrist and stopped her. "I can contact them, they can stand in for me, I can-"

"Hush..." Kenobi whispered, gently pressing her back so she laid down, and he pulled the covers over her naked body and pressed his lips to her temple. "Your thoughts are scattered, you need time to rest and focus. I'm going to go fetch my ship, and when I return, I'll help you. Alright?" The Senator nodded swiftly, and with a small smile, Kenobi kissed her, grabbed his cloak, and left her alone to rest. It would take time to repair the damage that had been done, time to convince the twins that they were safe, but Obi-Wan would do it. He _had_ to, not just so Padmé and the twins could heal, but so he could as well.


	3. The Clone Protocol

**AN:** **Next chapter of In Chaos, I thrive is taking longer than expected. Needs a little more time to cook, so you can expect that this weekend. After that, the chapters are going to get longer as things start going a bit bananas, so I might need more time for those too. In the meantime, have some one shots! You guys have some AWESOME ideas, I've gotten so many, it's hard to choose which to do! Keep them coming, I love them!**

 **This one is brought to you by DarkTARDIS over on ao3. It's not EXACTLY what you wanted, but I don't suspect it'll be the last Cody POV, since you guys friggin' love Cody. I'll get to the Shaak Ti one soon. Post-Mustafar Cody is FASCINATING.**

 **Thanks man! Great suggestion!**

 _The Clone Protocol_

"Alright, Cody," the Jedi said in a low, smooth drawl, his arm draped over the clone's white and orange striped armor, "you've got command of the _Dauntless_ on the way to Christophsis. Can you handle it?"

Cody straightened up, smirking under his helmet. "Of course, General Vos," he swiftly said. "I can handle _anything_ you can't." A slow, wide grin appeared on Quinlan's face, his eyes lighting up with amusement as he clapped the man on the shoulder.

"You're a real bastard, Commander," Quinlan said, flicking his hair over his shoulder as he began to saunter away. "I'll be with Qui-Gon on the _Resolute_ , don't get into that much trouble when I'm gone." The clone commander scoffed.

"Far be it for me to get between you and your lover. Have fun, sir."

The Kiffar's knees suddenly buckled, and he brought a hand to his forehead and moaned dramatically. "Oh, you beautiful man, I could take you right now, I think I'm falling in love..." With a quick smile and a wicked gleam in his eyes, the Jedi bounded off, calling behind him, "Save yourself for me, Cody! I want to be first!"

"You are _far_ too late for that, sir," the clone replied, a wry smile on his lips as the Kiffar began laughing hysterically as he joined his fellow Jedi. The command was an unusual one, though Cody had been trained for it all the same. Sometimes following orders meant being the one to take command, and Cody had been primed for that. He had come out of the first batch, a group that was considered experimental, a group that was a bit closer to the template of the original than the ones that followed.

He had trained beside brothers that went on to command battalions of their own, each and every one of them able to easily take the command of a General, if need be. They were just a bit sharper than most of their brothers, less docile, more independent, more willful, which is why Cody got stuck with General Quinlan Vos, a Jedi with a reputation. Vos was a good one, as wild as they said, full of good humor and boundless enthusiasm and a burning need to embarrass everyone around him. That was fine by him. If his General liked breaking the rules, both in his command and in his social interactions, Cody could keep up.

Christophsis had been surrounded by Separatists when they arrived, but they had been commanded to hang back while the Jedi tried something. Cody watched in fascination as a long, needle-shaped ship materialized seemingly out of nowhere to engage the _Invincible_ , the mighty dreadnought that sat at the head of the Confederate fleet, and shortly soon after, the Jedi had broken through the blockade with the explosive death of the command ship and Admiral Trench that commanded them from the bridge.

Everything fell apart from the Separatists after that. Without their Admiral, the blockade could keep nothing off the planet, and what _should_ have been a fierce battle in space had become a clean-up effort, as Cody went from Commander to Custodian. Even the battles on the ground were going well, so Cody heard, and with orders to stay and watch the skies and route the enemy from space, the clone remained on the bridge of the _Dauntless_ , dispatching his men to fight while he had wished to go. It was routine, and if everything went so smoothly as the battle of Christophsis, than the war would be a short one.

When the bridge doors opened, Cody turned his attention to see a single man walk in, dressed in the robes and tunic of a Jedi, a black cloak billowing behind him as he strode onto the deck and a lightsaber hanging at his side. The clone frowned as he looked the man over as he quickly approached. To his knowledge, there hadn't been any other Jedi but the four they had arrived with, though a recent batch of reenforcements may have brought more Jedi with them. He certainly _looked_ like a Jedi, but something felt... _off_. Something wrong and unnatural seemed to hang in the air, thick and heavy, like a fog had just rolled in. Cody could feel his heart beating faster, though for what reason, he didn't know, but he suddenly felt... _danger_. Whatever it was that walked on his ship was dangerous, a hunter, not a peacekeeper, a warrior, not pacifist, a dealer of death, not a protector of life.

Still, the clone stood tall, his chest puffed in a show of dominance, and he walked to meet the man, never looking away from the glowing, golden eyes in the shadows of his hood. "I'm Clone Commander CC-2224," Cody said sternly, stopping before the hooded man, his arms folded inside his long, black sleeves as he looked appraisingly around the deck, other clones at the controls glancing over curiously. It was, as things had always been with their own General, _highly_ unusual. Perhaps the Jedi just didn't yet understand proper protocol. "This ship is mine in the absence of General Quinlan Vos. And you are?"

Thin lips drawn tight in concentration on a bearded face slowly curled up in amusement. "Oh, Quinlan," the man said softly in a crisp accent that Cody recognized as upper class Coruscanti, "you always _did_ leave your things scattered about..." Golden eyes seemed to alight with unnatural fire, and in a moment, it felt as though the airlocks had failed and the vacuum of space had rushed in. Cody grasped his chest, a heavy weight upon him that prevented him from drawing any breath at all. His limbs shook, and all around him, he could hear the sound of his men on the bridge, gasping as they struggled, the clang of armor-clad knees striking the floor. He grit his teeth, his jaw clenched so tight he thought the bone would crack under the strain, and doubled over, Cody stubbornly refused to allow his legs to give way, his resolve to shake, and opening his eyes, he looked up at the man that stood before him.

His hood pulled back, Cody's eyes widened as he looked upon a neatly groomed blond man, his hair and beard neatly trimmed, every detail of his face exuding the elegance that came from one born not just to command, but to _rule_. He _knew_ this man, he thought, as he could feel a heavy weight settle upon his shoulders and press him down to his knees to kneel before the man that Cody now recognized as the Negotiator. Obi-Wan Kenobi. Fallen Jedi and Separatist leader.

"I'm Darth Lumis," Kenobi drawled, his voice soft and smooth and calming like music, a ringing melody that made Cody's mind feel warm and hazy and unfocused. "But _you_ ," he said, long fingers resting under the clone's chin and gently directing him to look up into those predatory eyes, "may call me _Master_."

" _Master_ ," Cody mindlessly repeated, and the last thing he wondered was how this man had come aboard the ship undetected and managed to get up here, all without anyone raising a single alarm. After that, a will that was not his own drowned out all other thoughts.

Cody didn't much remember what had happened after that. It was like watching himself from outside his body, like he were watching a holovid, a recording of something happening to someone else in a different time, a different place, and he had been powerless to interact. Just watch. _Always_ watch. A silent observer to an event that had already happened. He watched the man in black, Kenobi, _Master_ , walk around the bridge like he owned it, which, Cody supposed, he did, pointing at different stations and issuing commands, which the clones quickly moved to do. After him trailed Cody - _no_ , not him, not himself, that wasn't _him_ \- staggering and swaying on legs that moved at the bidding of another, like a puppet moved by strings.

Every now and again, Cody would feel a shiver run through him, a cold shill that ran straight to his bones, and the image of himself would stop, a hand to his temple as he shook his head. This was _wrong_. This wasn't what he would do, this wasn't what he was _trained_ to do. Fighting was in his blood, but this... _creature_ , more beast than man robbed him of his purpose, his will, everything that made him _Cody_ , and replaced it with something else. Something that mindlessly followed. Something that craved absolute submission, _slavery_ , and it disgusted him. He was _no slave_. The feeling washed away quickly, the cold giving way to a flood of warmth that left him calm and hazy and tired, and he obediently went back to watching, the clone he watched shaking off his momentary lapse and continuing to follow Kenobi.

A gentle caress to his cheek drew Cody's hazy eyes to the Negotiator, and he saw his lips moving, but could not hear the words, only felt a pull within him, a soft hum within his mind, and he took a device from the smiling man's hand, and ordered his men fighting the fleeing Separatists to return to the ship. They had an order to withdraw, and it must be obeyed. The starfighters returned quickly, and when all troops were present and accounted for, Kenobi threw himself into the command chair, lounging lazing over it, and Cody dropped to his knees, clutching his head and shivering as the blue lines of hyperspace filled the viewport.

He didn't know how much time had passed, the cold coming faster now, the haze lifting as the calm, hypnotic waves of hyperspace seemed to bring him out of it, but even with his senses returning, Cody found he couldn't move, his arms and shoulders shaking with effort, but his body refused to obey. His mind may be his, but his body was not, and _that_ was worse than what it had been before. Obi-Wan sat in the chair that should have belonged to General Vos, his eyes closed, his being restful and relaxed, though Cody could see his lips slightly move, could hear the whispers upon them in a language that seemed to worm its way through him, invasive and intrusive as words had no right to be.

When he felt the ship lunge forward as it reverted to sublight, the blue and while lines of the stars snapped back into their pinpoints in the vastness of space, and before them hung a planet, large and red and angry, a world of lava and volcanos and little more from the look of it. Even from a distance, the place felt dark and twisted, like something evil had happened there, like something violent and dangerous resided within the fires of the planet. Cody strained his eyes up to the Negotiator when he heard the man chuckle softly, a long finger upon the ship's intercom.

"Sis'kash Sith'ari Lumis," the man said a pleasant ring to the smooth, rich tones of his voice, and Cody immediately felt his full attention drawn to the soothing voice. "Girdeti nun'ir rajidona. Staenas malsini'ir staenas tikurzi tu'aras. Nuyak valia'kash visiskas." He didn't understand a word of it, but he understood the _feeling_ , a command carried through words in a foreign language that made him compelled to obey, filled him with the desire to stay _exactly_ where he was, and one look at his brothers on the bridge was enough to see that Cody wasn't the only one who felt it. The Negotiator had used the shipwide intercom. Did _everyone_ feel the effects?

With a groan, Cody shook his head, the haze sinking back in, but fading quickly as he commanded himself to focus, and slowly, he got used to the feel of the weight upon him, felt himself strengthen against the force that pushed him, was slowly able to tune the voice out, and with the greatest of effort, the clone's fist tightened, and he began to clamber to his feet. Hands on his knees as he fought against his own body, his eyes shot to the lounging Separatist that had, with _his help_ , stolen a Star Destroyer right out from under the nose of the Republic. He felt himself burn with rage. They were all going to die, he knew, but so help him, Cody was going to _kill this man_.

"You're strong," Kenobi drawled, one hand behind his head as the other drummed on the armrest. "What did you call yourself? CC-2224?" A soft but cruel smile touched his lips when Cody's face was marred with disgust. "Yes, that's it. That's what you are, isn't it? A number, just one among millions. A serial code given to a slave in place of a name at his birth."

Rage flashed through Cody, new strength running through him as he overcame the weight in his limbs and lunged at the smirking man, carefree and easy as he raised his hand and with a gesture, the clone dropped to his knees so hard he could feel the bruises instantly begin to form. "I am _not_ a slave!"

"No? CC-2224, you were born and bred by the Republic to fight their wars, to obey their commands, to die for them, only to be replaced by an identical brother." Kenobi scoffed. "Nobody will remember you when you die. You are one of millions, an insignificant speck in a sea of manufactured men, slaves made for _one_ purpose."

"My brothers will remember me!" he growled, and the man tilted his head and looked at the clone curiously, and Cody shivered as he felt... _something_ within his head, sifting and shifting like a living thing, pressing against him, and he felt his will, his very _thoughts_ begin to fade away. With a snarl of fury, he pushed back against the feeling, and it stopped, gold eyes before him widening with amusement. This was _fun_ to Obi-Wan. Cody felt sick.

"You've named each other..." the Sith Lord said softly, almost affectionate, and he reached out to stroke them man's cheek, and the commander audibly gagged. "What do they call you?" Cody stared defiantly at the man and kept his mouth shut, and with a sigh, Kenobi rolled his eyes. "Oh, come now, you say you aren't a slave. Show me your defiance, tell me the name your brothers gave you, show me how they made you more than what you really are."

" _You_ made me a slave!" he snarled, but he found he could no longer move. "You... _made me_ do things!"

"I could do so _because_ you are a slave already," Kenobi said, his voice suddenly chilly, a sharp contrast to its previous warmth. "But I can free you. I can release you from the chains the Republic has forced you to wear, chains that you don't even know _exist_ because you were born with them shackled tightly around you." A lazy smile spread across Kenobi's face as he stood and extended a hand to the clone at his feet. "But I can show you, and in seeing, you will be _free_. Your name, soldier."

"...Cody."

" _Cody_ ," Obi-Wan repeated, slowly as if tasting the name upon his tongue, and the clone's eyes narrowed in sudden defiance.

"But you will _never_ sway me, Negotiator! I know _exactly_ what you are." Golden eyes filled with sudden amusement, and the fingers of his extended hand slowly wiggled.

"Oh, _Cody_ , my dear, you have _no idea_."

And then there was pain, sharp ans searing as he felt hands of fire close around him, and they suddenly lifted, only to touch him again slower, more carefully, Kenobi's face drawn in concentration, his golden eyes closed. It became a gentle raking, like a lover's hand through his hair, soothing and comforting as hard fingers began to gently pry him open. Occasionally, there was pain, and the grip would loosen, only to touch him again a moment later, soft and gentle before it resumed to coaxing Cody to let this dangerous man within him. The clone resisted him, for a time, but slowly, the touches became gentle, yet insistent, sending waves of relaxation and warmth through him, and eventually, Cody's iron will began to fade.

He felt it again, the worming through his mind like a snake through grass, coiling around him and burrowing deeper within his exposed consciousness, and despite his desire to resist, Cody found himself unable to do anything but stare enthralled at the man that stood before him, tall and commanding and _radiant_ , brimming with power that was so like the Jedi, but instead of the Jedi's humble manner, _this_ man cloaked himself in his power like it was his divine right to do so, and it made him _beautiful._ The tendrils that slithered through his mind became more of a comfort the longer it lasted, prying fingers that so, so gently looked for _something_ , though what it was, Cody didn't know.

Cody gasped when something was touched within him, something secret and tightly bound within his mind, something that came from _him_ , not the darkness of the man above him. His focus suddenly sharpened, and he could feel his pupils dilate, his breath uneven as his eyes darted about the room, searching for something, _something_ that he needed. Something dangerous, something that must be destroyed, something, _something_...his eyes fell on the lightsaber at Kenobi's hip, and his black eyes focused, intense and wrathful, a deep, persistent itch suddenly erupting into a maddening craze, and he snarled, deep and guttural and feral.

" _Jedi_..."

Cody reached for the weapon at his hip, but found the blaster suddenly torn from him, the weapon flying to Kenobi's waiting hand, and the clone looked up at the Sith Lord with narrowed, angry eyes, and found...confusion. Disbelief. _Wonder_ and sudden understanding in blazing gold, and his breath hitched. This man...was not Jedi, could not be Jedi, not with the way power rolled off of him in cruel, violent waves, not when he knew this man to be a Separatist, a Jedi once, but no longer. A former Jedi. An _enemy_ of the Jedi. An ally. _A Master_. The Jedi were dangerous, and they needed to be destroyed, but _this_ man...this man, Obi-Wan Kenobi, was more dangerous than _any_ Jedi. Just not to him. Not to those that stood against the Order.

"Good soldiers follow orders..." Cody said softly, repeatedly, chanting it like a mantra, a cherished code as he sat back on his heels and slightly swayed, his unfocused eyes darting about the room in search of what it was he was commanded to hunt, a haze of violence and murder and betrayal filling him and eating his mind like an obsession that rotted away reason and free will and the ability to _chose_. He was a slave. He had always been a slave, and now, he saw his chain, felt it heavy upon his neck as it locked him in the darkness of a cell he could not escape.

" _Cody_." His eyes flew open wide, his pupils wide and dark and focused upon the voice that cut through the haze of his mind like a blade of red light. " _Can you hear me_?" The clone mindlessly nodded, seeing nothing, but the voice filled his mind, echoed within him until it was all he could hear, drowning out the buzz, the _command_ that he was compelled to mindlessly obey. He clung to that clipped accent like a lifeline, a rope dropped down to save him from the well he had fallen in to.

" _I think I understand now_ ," Kenobi said softly. " _I see what's inside you, I know what has been placed in your mind_."

"F-fix it," he stuttered, quietly begged, and he shivered when he felt a cool hand touch his feverish cheek. "Please, fix it..."

" _I can. Do you understand what this means?_ " Cody shook his head. He didn't understand _anything_ right now but the need to cling to the light in the madness that lay planted within him. " _The Republic can control you in an instant, take away everything it means to be you the moment they see fit to do so. You are, as I said, a slave_." Cody whimpered, grasping at the air and guided by unseeing eyes, and Kenobi tightly took his hand in his own. " _I can fix it. I can free you_." Obi-Wan had to say nothing else. The silent plea, the tight grasp of the man's conflicted mind upon him, and with a long breath, Kenobi reached out and silenced the voice that originated deep in Cody's mind.

The light exploded in his mind, blinding him as the haze was clear, the voice silenced, and when Cody regained awareness, he found himself face down on the cold deck of the ship, his pulse racing and his breathing quick, and after the relief had passed, he felt _rage_. Deep and pervasive, so intense that he shook. He was a _slave_. He and all his brothers, _all of them_ , born slaves of the Republic, born with a leash that could be tugged the moment their Masters wished, and the clones would be forced to obey. Even now, they blindly and _proudly_ fought for the Republic that enslaved them, unaware that they were chained and bound, slaves since they day they were born, no better than the droids they had been trained like dogs to fight. He felt _sick_.

And then there was Obi-Wan Kenobi. One of the Separatist scum he was trained to hate, trained to kill, and he had _freed him_ , exposed the Republic's treachery, shown him the shape of his chain and broke through it with a blade made of red light. This man, this _enemy_ had done for him what his allies never would. With shaking hands, Cody took Kenobi's hand in his own and touched his forehead to the former Jedi's knuckles. He owed him his life. He owed him his _freedom_ and everything that would ever come from it. The rest of his life wouldn't be enough to pay Kenobi back for what he had done for him. He was forever indebted, and perhaps that was a kind of slavery as well, but at least it was one he _chose_.

"Please," he whispered, looking up into golden eyes that gleamed bright with curiosity and bemusement and something distressingly close to kindness. "Please, free my brothers."

That soft smile crossed Obi-Wan's face, softer and kinder than any the clone had seen from him before, and when warmth rushed through him, a soft tug of acceptance and connection between them, Cody knew he was home.


	4. The Sith Emperor

**AN:** **I know, I know, chapter 5 of In Chaos, I Thrive isn't out yet. But I have it planned in my head, and that is where this goes! Special thanks to AngelQueen on ao3 for this one, I read the suggestion and it bit immediately. Though, I AM sorry for this one. I didn't mean for it to end this way!**

 _The Sith Emperor_

The Empire wasn't at peace. There was no such thing as peace, only passion, the truth of the Code of the Sith, the raging fires of life calming never for a moment. Life was a thing wasted if not lost in the throes of passion of all kinds, life and pleasure and love and hate and pain, all of it deeply and unabashedly felt, a thing watched over and guided by the Sith, the Keepers of the Force. Steeped in darkness, the Force was sated, and the Force was content, its followers leading the galaxy to great progress through the grip of adversity, through hardship, through ambition, through lust. True, sometimes one would reach too far. Occasionally, an over-ambitious Sith Lord would try to grab past what the Force allowed, and another Sith would quickly rise to destroy the upstart, and balance was restored.

All thrived, all existed under the careful, watchful eye of the Sith Emperor, the Dark Side nexus that drew and channeled the will of the Force itself. Guided by the shadowed hands of the Dark Side, a great and savage beast that walked in perfect step beside him, the Emperor had destroyed the traitorous Jedi, the foolish servants of the light that ignored the will of the Force and kept darkness at bay for a thousand years, the balance disrupted and ignored. It was followed by greed, corruption, _stagnation_ , a bitter result of the selfishness of the Jedi. It took strength to make the sacrifices needed for progress, a strength that only the Sith possessed. The Force agreed, and the Jedi were dead. All of them that had clung to the dying light had perished with it. Even Anakin Skywalker, favored son of the Jedi Knights, had fallen before a red blade, struck down in the name of darkness, the last bastion of the light destroyed.

Darth Sidious, Sith Master before him, had perished as well, struck down on the day that darkness fell. The day the Republic perished. The day the Confederacy dissolved. The day his son was born. On that day, the Dark Side _roared_ , and he could feel Mastery upon him, the pacing predator within dying suddenly when it had been gripped in the enormous claws of a _dragon_ , mighty and fierce and _awakened_ and roaring that it was time. Even Sidious, who had expected betrayal, was overwhelmed by just how strong his apprentice had become, how quickly the Dark Side fed him power and strength, an open nexus of a Force that had blackened in readiness for the rise of the Sith. Sidious was struck down. The Republic transformed into the Empire, the Jedi destroyed by the clones that served them, and by evening, the former Republic and the Empire of Mandalore had united to form the Sith Empire. All was as it should be.

Obi-Wan awoke with a gasp and shot up straight in bed, his brow covered in sweat, his breath fast and ragged, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked around the large, ornate bedroom, golden eyes wide as he studied the open balcony to the city below, a gentle breeze coming in and ruffling thick, dark red curtains. A fire burned within an obsidian fireplace, warming the dark stones of the floor covered in ornate rugs, all in the black and red of the Sith Lord, and for a moment, he felt disoriented, like he didn't know where he was.

A pale, thin arm wrapped around his hip and an elegant, long-fingered hand traced the strong muscles of his stomach and the array of scars upon his skin, and Kenobi quickly looked to his side, his breath catching in his throat as he looked into the bright blue eyes of a woman. His lover. His _wife_. _His Empress_.

"Dreams again, Obi?" Satine asked softly, a caring smile on her lips, and after staring at her stupidly for a moment, Kenobi pulled her into his arms and held her tight and close, as if she would vanish, slip from his grasp if he didn't hold on. She gasped, quickly following with a musical chuckle that made the Sith Lord shiver. "Dreams, then. You've been having them so often."

"They are _so real_ , my love," he whispered, his cheek pressed against her smooth, pale hair and he breathed deeply, delighting in the smell of the Mandalorian Vormur blooms she always seemed to carry with her. He was home. Everything was _fine_. His racing heart began to calm."

"Tell me?" she asked softly, kissing at his neck and chest, and the Emperor groaned.

"It's always the same. Just that..." He growled deep in his chest and bit at her ear, the woman gasping as strong fingers grasped her hip. "Sidious alive, an Empire without me, the survival of Skywalker, the continuation of the Jedi, the screams of the Force, the deaths of my friends, you and our son butchered like animals by Maul..." She kissed him, soft and sweet and deep, and he moaned as she wriggled in his grasp to straddle his bare hips, a soft chuckle of amusement in her throat as she felt her passionate Emperor burn with arousal.

"Imagine what your people would think if they knew their mighty Sith'Ari had nightmares," Satine teased gently, and Kenobi looked away, a sheepish smile on his lips. "You've nothing to fear, Obi. I'm here. I'm _never_ leaving you."

"I'm not afraid, fear has been driven from me long ago." He ran her silky blond hair through his fingers, moaning softly when her hand drifted down his body and, with a devious gleam in her eyes, began to slowly stoke his passions, the Dark Side awakening in a swell of lust like he hadn't known in _years_. He had lost what he was going to say, his thoughts taken from him by the vile, _perfect_ seductress in his grasp.

"Darth Sidious is dead," Satine said, slow and sweet, her words almost hypnotic in the way they chased the vivid images of the nightmares from his mind. "You killed him the day our son was born, just as you had promised me, and the Empire is yours, this _galaxy_ is _yours_."

"Mine..." Obi-Wan repeated mindlessly, possession and desire in the low growl of his voice.

" _All yours_ ," Satine said as she pressed her body against his. He remembered that day _so_ well, so _vividly_ that he wondered how such terrible dreams could make him forget for even a moment. He could still see the shock and betrayal in Sidious' eyes as the red blade pierced through his heart, could still smell the burning flesh as plasma seared the life out of him, could feel the swell of power as the Dark Side claimed him as its own, crowning him Sith'Ari for now and all times to come. While he struggled with Sidious, Satine had struggled in a battle of her own to bring their son into the world. The birth was a difficult one, the Force so powerful within the child that it had torn the mother up and left her unable to bear anymore children.

They had always imagined a large family, but when he looked upon his son, the future of what would be the mighty Sith, Obi-Wan had known he would never need anyone else. He had loved the child immediately, had held him in his arms and felt darkness rich and strong within him, pale blond hair from his mother and the rich blue eyes his father had been born with marking him with grace and nobility befitting a Lord of the Sith, the Prince of an Empire, the Heir of the Future. He was _beautiful_ , perfect and radiant and everything that Kenobi had ever dreamed of.

"Skywalker is dead," she said softly as she planted light, chaste kisses to her lips. "The Jedi are gone, the Force is in balance, your friends are out managing your Empire, and I am _fine_ , as is our son." She smiled gently. "How couldn't we be? You killed Maul on Raydonia, remember?"

Did he? Is that what happened? He remembered the village burning, the Sith pretender and his brother, Qui-Gon Jinn, an escape on a ship...but that could have been the dream. It _was_ the dream. He had killed Maul on Raydonia in the midsts of smoke and flames like the palor of the Zabrak's skin.

"Yes..." he muttered, drawing her close, and the woman gasped with delight when she felt proof of his desire press hard and insistent against her, and claiming, passionate lips quickly took hers as she was flipped over and swiftly entered, moaning loudly as the Sith above her took her like a man parched, starved for her touch like he hadn't felt it in years, desperate gasps escaping his throat as he took her like it was their first time, their last time, the thing he had wanted and craved and so badly missed. She moaned with each thrust within her, a pleasured, loving smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, her long fingers running over the raised scars on his back, left from a time when he wasn't the _god_ of the Sith, the Emperor of the galaxy, the Lord of all he could see. Every time with her husband was like this. Every time like it was their first. Every time like he had found his salvation within her, _every time_ like he would never have her again, and she loved him all the more for it.

He shuddered above her as he came undone and collapsed into her arms, his breathing fast and a low, possessive growl deep in his chest as he kissed and bit at her slender neck, and he shivered as he felt the euphoric bliss that ran in the blood of his passionate Mandalorian Queen, and deep within Obi-Wan beat joy, pure and unrestrained and driving his passions deeper. He took her again, and again after that, and once again under the waters of their shower when they had resolved to actually get out of bed to rule the galaxy.

He dressed at a leisurely pace, finally cinching his belt around his waist, the fine black robes interwoven with the red and black of his Mandalorian armor, a symbol of the unity between Sith and Mandalore, the joining of two great and mighty Empires to guide the galaxy into the darkness of night. He lounged in a large, comfortable armchair as he waited for Satine to finish, the spinning, open Sith holocron floating before him, the deep, ravenous voice of Darth Nihilus, Lord of Hunger, echoing in the air as the Sith Master closed his eyes in meditation of the knowledge within. He heard the doors of his chamber open, but didn't move from his place. He had nothing to fear, no cause for alarm when he felt the darkness ripple, a mighty stone cast into calm waters.

"Father!" Kenobi's eyes shot open and looked at the voice only when the holocron went flying to the waiting hand of his son, a bright, pleasant smile on a handsome face and an eagerness that burned in the gold of his eyes, the blue faded long ago to the brilliant hues of the Sith when he had embraced the Dark Side that helped in his creation. He was tall, taller than his father by a few inches, his body strong and cared for, his own black robes and tunic embroidered with reds and golds that only served to highlight his elegance. He had inherited his mother's pale hair, long limbs and graceful bearing, his father's easy strength and handsome features, though at sixteen, he was still unable to grow a beard like his admired father. But he was _powerful_ , a mighty presence in the Force that was golden and magnificent to look upon, awe-inspiring and regal as if he had been marked for greatness that had yet to be achieved.

With him came Luke Skywalker, half a year younger than the Prince, and the two had been _inseparable_ since childhood, and along with Luke's twin sister, Leia, and the tremendous power between the three, they were a formidable trio that could topple nearly any adversary, despite their young age. They were remnants of Anakin Skywalker, the _other_ vergence in the Force, the _dead_ vergence that stood opposed to the darkness until the very end, the twins rescued from the slaughter of the light when Padmé Amidala had come to the Emperor, afraid for the lives of her children when...

 _No, that's not right_. Kenobi frowned as he looked upon Luke, smiling and laughing by the Prince's side and reaching for the holocron that the young Lord held high above his head. Obi-Wan's vision began to grow hazy, and with a vicious snarl, he closed his eyes and shook his head, and when he looked again, the mist had cleared. Everything was _fine_. Padmé was _fine_ , her twins born in the palace under the grace of Kenobi's protection, the Sith Emperor keeping the young mother and her children safe within his inner circle. She and Satine got along famously, as did their children. They all had a home here. All of them, so long as they wished it. Everything was _fine_. This was as things should be. _How_ they came to be wasn't important. Padmé came to him after her husband was killed, pregnant and seeking protection for her children from her old love, and Obi-Wan couldn't find it within himself to deny her.

 _That was it_. He smiled and relaxed and stood as his son sauntered toward him, tossing the holocron back to the Emperor.

"So when do I get to learn from that one?" the Prince asked, flashing his father his brightest smile and pouting furiously when he was met with the stern look that always meant he would not get his way. "Father, it's _Darth Nihilus_! He's standard education for the Lords of the Sith!"

"He is _beyond_ advanced, ner adiik, and you, _Apprentice_ , shall learn from him when I deem you ready." The boy hissed in irritation, but his father remained resolved. "You have yet to even _touch_ me with a lightsaber, and you have only just learned how to dominate a mind, my son." He smiled gently and brought a hand to the boy's cheek, and despite himself, the teen smiled, bright and easy.

"Patience, right?" Kenobi nodded.

"Patience in all things, my son. Many Sith have perished reaching too far, too quickly, and I will not see you lost." Kenobi ruffled the boy's hair, and the boy squirmed to get away, hissing in frustration when he escaped as he quickly smoothed back his fine blond hair. The Emperor's eyes fell on the young Skywalker, and the boy flushed deeply and knelt. Luke didn't take to the Dark Side nearly so well as his sister. He was light of spirit and kind of heart, so much like his mother. His _sister_ , on the other hand, was well on her way to becoming a Lord of the Sith.

"Luke," Kenobi said softly, gesturing for the boy to rise, and the jumped to his feet, but kept his eyes averted.

"Master..."

"You two are early." Luke nodded.

"Master Vos and General Cody are here to see you, sir. They're waiting for you in the main hall."

"They didn't want to come up themselves," the Prince drawled, his cocky smile back on his lips now that his appearance was satisfactory. "Quinlan said _last_ time he just came up, he walked in on something he was _not_ invited to." The young Prince grinned broadly while Luke turned a shade of red to match Kenobi's armor. "He was mad for _days_ , Father, he doesn't know why you do these things without him." The Prince looked around the room, searching for something with a frown on his face. "Is... _mother_ here?"

"Don't you dare sound like you don't want me around!" Satine called from the other room, and her son _winced_. "I may not know the Force, but that won't keep me from beating some respect into you!"

"Don't make your mother angry, son," Kenobi drawled, a light smile on his lips as he watched the young Prince squirm, Luke barely containing his laughter. "You're group is one short today," he said, observing the two boys as they laid their hands threateningly on their lightsabers, eager smiles on their faces, and both boys quickly drew up, the Prince with a pleased expression on a face that was beginning to flush red, and a conflicted frown on Skywalker's lips. The Prince drew closer to his father.

"She's _resting_ , that's what I wanted to talk to you about," he said in a hushed whisper, his chest swelling with pride. "I'm a _man_ now. Leia and I spent the night together." Kenobi arched an eyebrow as his son sighed wistfully. "I love her, father, I'm going to marry her as soon as I complete my training!"

"I just _can't_ believe that _you're_ what she wants..." Luke groaned, shaking his head in mock dismay, the protective brother unsure of how to deal with what people would be assuming would happen for years.

"Far be it for me to get in the way of passion," Kenobi muttered, and his son grinned, his entire being trembling with excitement. "Your mother's going to be _so mad_."

"Mother just doesn't understand what it's like to be in love!" he sighed, choking for a moment when he felt the Force tug on him and he was met with the warning of narrowed, golden eyes. "I mean...not with _you_ , father, you know what I mean..."

"She and I were your age when we were first together," Obi-Wan said softly. "You know it isn't about that, she just _adores_ Leia-"

"Which is why we need to get married!"

"-and has been warning her against bad men since she was _ten years old_."

"...oh." The Prince smiled shyly, a modest thing that reminded Obi-Wan so much of himself when he had been a Jedi. "Well, I think Leia Kenobi sounds like it was always meant to be."

"She's already Leia Kenobi," Obi-Wan said quietly as pride filled him, and suddenly, the edges of his vision began to waver, the ripples moving in until everything before him became hazy and unclear, and with a desperate cry, he reached out to grasp for the image before him, but the harder he grasped, the quicker it ran through his fingers until there was nothing at all.

Obi-Wan awoke with a scream, shooting up in his bed, hie breathing fast and ragged, his pulse racing, his eyes wide as he surveyed the room. The walls were dark gray metal, the floor finely polished wood that bespoke of luxury, the desk on the far wall neat and organized, his robes and tunic neatly folded on top of the dresser. His Mandalorian armor was tucked away in the closet, but he kept the door closed and locked, a secret thing to be used only when he needed to become the Shadow King. He was safe in his room aboard the _Umbra_ , the hum of the engines soft and nearly inaudible in the air, and he threw himself back down on the bed, his hands covering his face as he groaned. He could feel Cody's presence in the next room, quiet and restful in sleep, could sense the deep breathing and low growl of Yoda in the hold as the beast dreamed.

Beside him, he could feel the warm, comforting presence that he had come to know so well, the light blue glow casting the room in dim light.

"Dreams again, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked, the spirit's features pained and sad, and Kenobi looked away from him, his hands shaking as he closed his eyes and tried to relive what had moments ago been _so real_. "You have them often."

" _I know_ ," he growled, biting his lip when he felt his throat tighten and his eyes sting. Sidious was alive. Anakin Skywalker, _Darth Vader_ stood beside Palpatine in an Empire that should have been Kenobi's. His friends were dead. Maul had murdered Satine and his beautiful son. Not even Luke and Leia were with him, the five year olds currently on Dagobah under the care of Grandmaster Yoda while Darth Lumis was off to Ryloth to see if he could talk sense into Cham Syndulla. It was a dream, though he wished it hadn't been.

"Obi-Wan," the spirit said after a moment of silence, "this is _torture_. You've been having these dreams every night you sleep. I'm certain the dreams would stop if you just let go and-"

" _Never_ ," Lumis hissed, and Qui-Gon sighed. The matter was final. Obi-Wan curled up and gripped the covers tight to him as ice ran through his veins. He closed his eyes, felt the sharp stab of pain, the anguish such bright visions of the future he never had inflicted upon him, and he drank deep of that pain, embraced it, felt the touch of Satine upon him that he would never actually feel, heard the sweet, melodic voice of his son that would never reach his ears. He was a Lord of the Sith, and pain made him powerful, and this was a wound that would never heal, a gaping hole within him made when his future was ripped away from him, a void belonging to the ghosts that would haunt him forever.


	5. Empire Day

**AN:** **About halfway through the next chapter of In Chaos, I Thrive, should be up tomorrow, I think.**

 **This chapter I had LOTS of fun with. You guys wanted more Cody, so here you go. More of your favorite clone. Again, this one goes to DarkTARDIS. I think this one is way more in line with what you wanted. Hope you like it! I loved writing it. It's amazing to me how fast writing goes when you enjoy it so much!**

 _Empire Day_

Cody didn't realize how much pain he was actually in until he saw the Star Destroyers slowly flying toward Mustafar just as they made the jump to hyperspace. Another five minutes, and they would have been too late, their carefully made plans dashed against the might of the Empire as it came to Kenobi's home. Skywalker would have certainly been killed for his...failure, Cody supposed. He wasn't entirely sure how this all worked, the nature of Master and Apprentice was fairly clear with the Jedi, but with the _Sith_...the matter was complicated. Bo-Katan probably would have survived, though. He couldn't see how a leaderless Mandalore was good for anyone. Padmé would have been killed, though. Maybe. _Probably_ , along with the twins she carried, and in doing such...

Five minutes was all it would have taken, and Obi-Wan Kenobi would have been dead. Victorious, yes, but a slave to his cruel, conniving Master, deprived of the twin lives he had come to rely upon so much, the surrogate family for the one he had lost. He had become so close to losing himself completely after Satine and his son had been murdered by that beast Maul, but some hard work by Quinlan Vos had seen mad Darth Lumis give way to Obi-Wan Kenobi once again. And after Quinlan had been killed, Cody was certain the Sith he served could take no more. He supposed he'd be dead as well, which Cody was grateful for. He didn't think he could bear to see proud and mighty Obi-Wan reduced to a husk of nothing but anguish.

But they hadn't been late. Skywalker burned, but lived, becoming the Sith Apprentice that he coveted, and Kenobi had been victorious, and as he had always said, in his victory, his chains were broken, and he was finally free. Cody imagined it had to be bittersweet for the renegade Sith Lord. He had left the Jedi and given his life to see this end achieved, and when it had finally been accomplished, he was forced to turn his back on it, and became the enemy of what he had helped create. That can't have felt good. It wasn't dissimilar to when Cody had been freed from the Republic, when he had learned about the lies that his creators told him. For over ten years, he had trained for one purpose, to fight for the Republic, only to turn and fight against it when he learned the truth of their sinister intent. In this, he supposed, he and Obi-Wan were... _brothers_.

Bo-Katan was fine. Even Padmé was fine. Cody had made sure to that before he had rushed off to help Kenobi in his fight against Skywalker. He had gotten the women settled on the ship, laying the unconscious, pregnant woman down upon the bed in his quarters before he had left. He would have used Kenobi's room, but the Sith had been... _difficult_ about women being in there since Satine had died. Perhaps the Force sensitive could still feel her presence within and didn't wish to disturb it. He wasn't sure. The Force _was_ lost on him, and he was never really certain how it worked, or what powers the man he served had. He understood that Kenobi saw ghosts. Perhaps he saw the ghost of the woman he loved as well.

When Kenobi ran his hands over his face and sighed, the first moment he had to relax since...well, Cody suspected it wasn't since Satine died, the blood soaked cloth slipped from the clone's hand as he fell back against the seat, and before could realize his tactical mistake, the Sith Lord had jumped from his seat and began... _hovering_. He tried to recover, a smile on his face, but he winced as soon as he moved. The pain was too much, and he was just too... _tired_. It had been a long day, and the brutal deaths of the Separatist Council had only been the beginning.

He was so tired he could barely utter a protest when Kenobi had picked him up and cradled him against his chest, but he did manage a weak, "I'm not a child, Kenobi..." before unconsciousness took him.

When Cody awoke, he was laying on a couch that was pulled up next to his bed where Padmé still rested, the color returned to her cheeks and breathing regularly now, a vast improvement from the ragged, desperate gasps of before. He tried to sit up, but quickly abandoned the idea. He hurt _badly_. Before, adrenaline had kept him running, but now it had worn off, and everything felt sharper and more intense than before.

"Stop moving," he was silently commanded, and without his consent, Cody's body relaxed against the sofa, the pain flushed from him as warmth spread from the hand touched lightly to his now bandaged wound, blood already beginning to soak through. He looked up with tired eyes at Obi-Wan, his face smeared with ash, and a dark, blistering burn cut deep across his chest making the air smell of charred flesh. He had seen the wound before, but not well, but now, up close, he saw it was more serious than it actually looked. An inch deeper, and it would have cut past bone into fragile heart and lungs. Five minutes more, one inch more...it was shocking how their victory had been decided by so small a margin. It hadn't seemed like it at the time, but...well, the Force was with them, he supposed. Kenobi always said there was no such thing as luck.

"Are you healing me?" the clone gasped, but the Sith Lord shook his head.

"I never learned the skill, but I am... _trying_. Stop moving."

"Are the twins alright?"

"Yes. Stop moving."

"What about Padmé?" he asked, teeth grit as pain pushed past the warmth he felt, and a moment later, it was gone again."

"Cody."

"You need to get that looked at, sir," the clone said, eyes darting to the wound across the Sith's chest. "That's going to get infected and-" Obi-Wan's hand quickly shot out and roughly grabbed Cody's chin, forcing the man to look into gold eyes, dulled from their usual glow and filled with worry and concern for... _what_? The twins were fine, so...

" _Your mouth is moving_ ," the Sith Lord said slowly. "Cease it." Cody frowned, but bit his lip and nodded. He didn't want to be quiet. Being quiet focused his thoughts inwards, and there was nothing there he wanted to look at. Not now, not today. Today was about victory. Victory over Skywalker. Victory over Chancellor Palpatine. Victory over the Jedi. Padme was alive, the twins would be fine, Kenobi, provided he didn't die of infection, was alive and _free_ , which was better than could be said about his brothers. Better than could be said about his brothers, the other clones, slaves to the Republic and now slaved forever to the Empire. Better than could be said of...

Cody craned his head to look behind him, as if he could see out some rear viewport and look back on Mustafar, though they were now far, far from the planet. So much had been left there. It wasn't like he had time to pack, and by the time he and Kenobi had returned, the only thing he had _wanted_ to bring was already gone. Dead, defending Padmé, defending what Kenobi had put what was left of his heart into. He hadn't asked what had happened. Bo-Katan had told him as they moved Padmé to the _Umbra_ for safe-keeping until Kenobi had done what he must, but he didn't want to hear it, let the words wash over him like they were nothing so he could focus on his task, so he could secure the women and rush back to help Obi-Wan, as he had promised.

But now, with the warmth of the Force, the dulled pain in his side and the soft hum of the ship's hyperdrive, he could hear the words, and they cut him deep, could see her body, and it _burned_. Shaak Ti. He hadn't noticed when she had come to mean so much to him, but she did, and now that she was gone, he felt it much more keenly. He didn't know if he loved her. He hadn't _been_ in love before, and life training on Kamino didn't exactly prepare him for complicated or deep emotions. They trained him to fight hard, fight long, and die fast, soldiers that grew twice the speed of normal men, that grew old twice as quickly, that weren't expected to make it long enough to see those short lives lived out. And life with Kenobi had taught him _lust_. Passion, raw and intense and unrestrained, but love, even for him, was deeply personal. He shared his trysts with Mand'alor Satine freely, as did all soldiers who could brag about the beauties they bedded, but their _love_ had been...private. Personal. Deep and closely kept, for no eyes but his own and the woman he shared it with, eyes that were now closed forever.

But Cody had seen what it looked like when love was ripped from Kenobi's gentle grasp. He had seen what loved looked when it was tragically gone, and it looked like _fire_. Like hunger. Like sleepless nights and restless, lonely days. It looked like vacant stares and desperation, like shattered hopes and dreams that lay dying. It looked like pain and anguish and depression, like a void that filled with anger and hate just to keep the body moving. And Cody felt that now. He wasn't sure if it was the pain in his side, the warmth of the Force that flowed from his Lord, the lightheadedness caused by the loss of blood, but he couldn't help but think about her, and for a moment, reveled in the pain of her loss, as he had seen Obi-Wan do so often.

At first, she had been a curiosity, the first Jedi that Obi-Wan had specifically targeted. They had attacked Kamino for her, one of the Republic's most guarded planets, the place where their army was grown. It had been risky, but Kenobi had been so convinced of her usefulness to him that any loss incurred was acceptable. The Togruta would be his, no questions asked. Cody never really asked why. So much of what the Sith Lord had done was based on dreams or feelings or visions, but perhaps he had respected her. Perhaps he remembered her fondly from his time as a Jedi and selected her specifically to teach him, just as he had picked Quinlan Vos long ago as the friend he would take with him into darkness.

He didn't know what he was to expect. He had seen Togruta before, of course, and thought little of them, but there was something about _this one_ , the shade of her skin, the shape of her montrails, the length of her lekku, _something_ that made him look at the Jedi with lust that boiled through his veins. Perhaps it was simply that. Her colorings, the patterns upon her head and face were _exotic_ , and her Force sensitivity only made her all the more rare. While his brothers carried on with the slave Twi'lek on Mustafar, Cody never had the time nor the desire to indulge, though he occasionally did. The fascination his brothers had for the beautiful natives of Ryloth was something Cody simply didn't share with them. But one look at Shaak Ti, and he knew his tastes were simply a touch more exotic.

But when he had seen her on Mustafar with Kenobi, the Jedi kneeling between his legs, her hand lightly tracing the inside of his thigh, the Sith's hand on her high-domed montrails as she gasped in pleasure, Cody knew he _had_ to have her, and Kenobi, sensing his desires, had given her to him. A gift, he supposed, though Cody wasn't entirely sure what he had done to deserve such a thing. He had returned to her quickly after that, had stood before her and commanded her attention like he had seen the Sith do so many times before, and...it had worked. He hadn't been expecting it to, but the Jedi knelt before him, black eyes wide and filled with an eagerness to please, and he wasted no time in showing her exactly how she would be pleasing him.

As Kenobi had said, she had _no_ experience with men, but she proved to be an eager student and a fast learner, and Cody very quickly molded her to suit his _every_ need, taught her how best to please him, the right things to say, the right way to move, and though she had been shy at first, when exposed to the pleasures of the body, the Togruta had quickly relaxed, submitted to the pleasure that had rushed through her and gave herself freely to the man that made her feel that way. And for a time, that was what she was. A pleasure slave, one reserved _exclusively_ for him, one tailored to his every need, one that looked up at him with big, adoring eyes, one that always knew what her lover wanted, often before he even knew himself, one that always knew when to drop to her knees, one that always knew when to lay back and spread her long legs, one that always knew when and how to put her eloquent, knowledgeable tongue to use.

And then she knew other things. Concerns about their shared Master. The excitement at watching Mand'alor Satine begin to swell with the Sith Lord's son. The pain of their loss. The desperation at not knowing what to do to help Obi-Wan. The fear of losing him to hunger, or seeing him venture into the Force and never return. She may have been a slave, but in time, she grew to be a willing one. A loving one. One that cared for Obi-Wan not just as a Master, but as a student, the same way Cody cared for him, not just as his Lord, but as his friend.

Yes, Cody and Shaak Ti spent a good deal of their time having sex, a thing that they eventually came to share with the bereft Obi-Wan, but where before he had left after he had expended himself within her, he soon found himself... _staying_. Sleeping the night in her small quarters or bringing her back to his. _Talking_. Even without shackles, there was never any fear that she would attempt to escape, because Shaak Ti _wanted_ to stay. How much of that was Kenobi's influence, Cody would never know, but he liked to think it was mostly her. She already knew everything before Cody had ever said it, before he often knew himself what it was he was going to say, but she always listened calmly, patiently, so attentively, gave him advice when asked and simple understanding when he didn't. It was something beautiful. Something secret and hidden and private that he knew was hidden from nobody since he worked closely with a _mind reader_. But it felt like a secret. A good one.

And now she was dead.

Arriving on Mustafar and seeing her lifeless upon the ground had shocked him, _stunned_ him. He didn't think such a creature could die, not like that, and he had failed to save her. Failed to be there when she needed him, as she had always been there for him. For a moment, all else faded away. Padmé, struggling in the grasp of the Force, Bo-Katan, dazed and barely conscious across the room, the wary Kenobi as he dug deep inside his hatred in preparation for the battle that lay ahead. All of it, gone. Just Shaak Ti's body, cold and so thin, so small in his arms, and the sudden pain of a hole torn deep within him. It wasn't the same as what had happened to Obi-Wan when he lost Satine, he knew. A love that spanned decades was incomparable to the meager feelings between a clone and a sex slave, but for the first time, Cody understood what Kenobi had felt when his heart died, if only a little.

"You're moving again," Kenobi muttered, and Cody looked up at the man, suddenly brought out of his thoughts and made aware of how tense he was, how his lungs burned from holding his breath, how his eyes stung with tears he stubbornly refused to let fall.

"S-sorry..."

"Don't apologize, just...don't move," he whispered, looking away from him and focusing on the blood-stained bandages. " _Please_." For just a moment, it looked as if the Sith Lord was biting his lip, like he was repressing worry and concern, and something as close to fear as a true Lord of the Sith could get, but... _why_. The twins were _safe_ , and Cody knew that he and Obi-Wan were close, but nobody shed tears for a clone. Kenobi held on to the remainder of his blackened soul for the twins his heart had already adopted, not for the loyalty of a soldier, so _why_.

"I know what you feel," Cody said softly, his voice wavering from pain both physical and emotional, and dull gold eyes locked with his, deep and expressive even without the fire of ever-present rage behind them. He didn't need to explain. Obi-Wan just _knew_. He always did. He was a mind reader, after all, and...maybe something else. With a small, unsteady smile, Kenobi lay his hand on Cody's face and gently ran his thumb over his cheek.

"You hang on Cody, you understand?" the Sith Lord said softly. "I'm not going to lose you too."

It was a moment of clarity, just a flash of brief, sudden understanding, but it was enough. Cody wondered if that was what the Force was like, to be blessed with the sudden realization of what you meant to someone else. But he saw it now, clear as day, that Obi-Wan Kenobi clung on to him like a _lifeline_ , a fragile friendship between a god and a mortal, something fleeting, but precious, and Cody knew he would _never_ give that up. They understood each other, trusted each other, and were now brothers in victory as well as pain. He'd make it through this, as he always did, not for his Master, the Lord of the Sith, but for his friend Obi-Wan.


	6. The Haunting

**AN:** **I believe there was a request for more Ghost!Qui-Gon, so here you go! Another one for TheRealAlgeri. Didn't really give me any prompt, so I just let the brain fly on this one. I'm about halfway through the next chapter of In Chaos, I Thrive, so expect that tomorrow.**

 _The Haunting_

" _You know, if you were a bit more patient and a great deal less arrogant, you wouldn't be in this mess_."

Obi-Wan laughed manically under his breath, shaking his head as he pulled a fistful of wires out from the opened and smoking command console of the small starfighter that lay crashed upon the dusty highlands of Zygerria. It wasn't the _worst_ place to have crash landed, but there were no good places to crash a ship on a world like this. Above him, the sky was filled with green and red plasma as combating ships shot at each other, smaller fighters and larger carriers exploding into flames as they were struck, filling the dry air with the sound of thunder as they exploded.

Also, there were dark storm clouds on the horizon, so real thunder seemed not too far off. Followed possibly by rain. Which would have been _perfect_. Kenobi looked casually to his side as another starfighter struck the ground not too far from his location, causing the earth to shake as the burning, mangled metal further distorted upon impact. At least he wasn't _that_ guy. That guy was _dead_.

But at least that guy wasn't haunted by a _ghost_.

" _Honestly, Obi-Wan_ ," Qui-Gon said, the Force spirit standing outside the shattered cockpit hatch as the Sith Lord looked with disgust at the hopelessly frayed and burned wires in his hand. The plasma bolt had torn right through the central computers and destroyed the entire command console from the inside. The engines were fine, but without the power to command them to roar to life, the ship was as good as scrap. " _You're a good pilot, to be sure, but that was a maneuver that only Anakin could have pulled off_."

"Oh, _really_?!" the Sith Lord cried, throwing the wires in his hand at the floor so hard that they tore from their points of attachment within the ruined engines. "Skywalker could have done that, hmm? Got news for you, _Master Jinn_ , Anakin Skywalker _has no legs_!"

" _Anakin Skywalker hasn't crash landed on a plateau in the middle of a battle with no cover and no means of escape_." Qui-Gon paused, looking at the Sith Lord as he stood stationary and staring furiously at the spirit. "... _also, it looks like it's going to rain_." With a snarl of fury, Obi-Wan stalked across the mesa toward the deep red setting sun, doing what he could to ignore the spirit that walked effortlessly beside him.

"Skywalker could have done that, Obi-Wan," Kenobi mocked, deepening his voice in imitation of his former Master. "Skywalker has always been better than you. Skywalker is a prodigy and the greatest piolet in the galaxy and a living vergence, Obi-Wan. He's better than you at _everything_."

" _Well_ ," Qui-Gon said softly, a faint smile on his lips, " _your personal grooming habits are better. Though, that comes from vanity, I suspect_." With a scream of rage, Obi-Wan's lightsaber flew to his hand and ignited in a flash of crimson, and he swung the blade in a vicious, savage arc, the red slicing through the Force spirit again and again, the wild strikes cutting into the ground to leave deep, burning trails in the hard, compact dirt beneath their feet. It seemed to have no effect on the spirit.

" _You_ ," Kenobi growled, pointing the tip of the red weapon at the impassive ghost, "must have something better to do with your immortality than _haunt me_."

" _At the end of everything, one must expect the company of immortals_ ," the spirit said, smiling as the Sith Lord quickly reeled around, blade spinning and blocking the green fire of a ship as it swooped down to target the lone man walking across the barren mesa, only to find his shots deflected back at him, striking the engines and causing the ship to plummet toward the earth. Instead of an explosion as the ship hit the ground, it had disappeared, and the Sith Lord stood straight up, his eyes widening in understanding as he heard the crash and explosion a moment later. He couldn't see the edge for the sun, but the highlands he stood upon dropped off not too far away. At the very least, he'd be able to get off the exposed mesa.

"It _isn't_ the end of everything," Obi-Wan said, his teeth grit as he returned the saber to his belt.

" _Well, it might be for you very soon_ ," Qui-Gon said. " _You shouldn't even be here, it was reckless and foolish of you to come. What business do you have with the Zygerrians anyway_?"

"They were a member of the Confederacy, until very recently, I led their people as the leader of the Separatists." His chest inflated, a cocky grin on a face that was far too smug for a man that had been shot out of the sky. "I had _sex_ with their Queen!"

Qui-Gon gawked, looking at his former student with a mix of shock and disgust. " _When_?" he asked, though he was uncertain he wanted the answer, though it was possible the Sith Lord was just messing with him. " _There haven't been many women in your life, after Satine_ -"

" _After Satine_!" Kenobi shouted, cutting the spirit off. "After Satine, before Padmé meant..." He paused to clear his throat. "Before she meant something to me. I had _plenty_ of women then, including your friend Shaak Ti..." He grinned, leaning in toward the Force ghost, who walked beside him unamused. Obi-Wan frowned when he got no reaction out of the Jedi, and he rolled his eyes. "Dooku sent me to Zygerria just so I could have something to do that, you know... _wasn't_ burning planets. Some diplomatic thing."

" _It turned out well, I take it_." Obi-Wan opened his mouth to answer, but quickly shut it, his hand stroking his beard as he thought.

"I don't know," he finally said. "We didn't do much talking. I _was_ insane at the time. There was some talk afterwards about becoming the Queen's Consort, but..." He shrugged. "I don't really remember. All I know is that for a slaver, she _really_ liked calling me Master, and everything was on _fire_." Another ship fell blazing out of the sky and struck the ground behind them, exploding into plumes of flame. "...sort of like it is now."

A peel of thunder rolled through the air as a shadow fell over them, and suddenly, it began to rain, the drops large and falling fast and heavy from the black clouds that now hung overhead. Crashed ships smoked and hissed as the fires were put out by the torrential downpour, and as the clouds rolled in, the ships flew out, leaving the battle for clearer skies elsewhere. Obi-Wan had stopped walking and stared soullessly out over the mesa, his eye twitching as his robes soaked through and his immaculately styled hair got drenched.

" _Well_ ," Qui-Gon said softly. " _At least the fires are out_."

"I don't think I could possibly hate you anymore than I do right now."

" _No_? _I have an eternity to test that, it may be a worthwhile experimentation_." With a deep, angry growl, Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest and trudged across the mesa, his feet squishing within his boots with each step. " _You really have no business here, Obi-Wan_ ," Qui-Gon said softly as the Sith Lord approached the edge of the Mesa and looked down to see water running in thick streams down a sheer drop of the cliff side. He hadn't been paying much attention when he had landed on account of the fact that his ship was smoking and on fire, and he was plummeting to his death.

"Zygerria," Kenobi began, taking his lightsaber into his hand, "is a Confederate world and I-"

" _This fight isn't even about Zygerria, Obi-Wan, it's about chasing pirates out of the nearby trade routes_!" Kenobi's lightsaber hissed on and continued to hiss as the rain struck the blade, and the Sith Lord stepped off the edge of the cliff, thrusting the saber into the wall of stone to slow his fall to the ground far below. " _Even for you, this is reckless_ ," Qui-Gon continued, appearing beside Kenobi once again after he had reached the bottom. " _What is it you even hope to achieve here? There aren't rebels that you can recruit, and your life isn't just yours anymore._ "

"If you know what's good for you, you'll shut up until I'm out of the rain," the Sith Lord said between clenched teeth, and a moment later, Qui-Gon was gone. Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief and continued to make his way along the cliff as he looked for shelter from the downpour. Qui-Gon was right, of course. There was nothing here for Kenobi but the thrill of the fight, and his reckless flying had gotten him shot out of the sky. This wouldn't have happened if he had the _Umbra_ , or if Cody had been with him, but Kenobi had sent both to Tatooine to meet with Jabba and Bo-Katan as they discussed their ongoing secret alliance and their much more public bitter rivalry. Obi-Wan should have been there as well, but restlessness took hold of him, and he had to get out, had to destroy something, had to surround himself with chaos and war and death.

And so he ran to Zygerria, where the Empire had been attempting to drive pirates out of essential trade routes in the sector since Palpatine had taken over just half a year earlier. Even as the most wanted person in the galaxy, it was an easy place for Kenobi to blend in and get lost in the chaos. There was nobody of note out here anyway, no great threat, no Tarkin or Vader, and with a complete disregard for his safety because he believed his safety to be assured, Obi-Wan plunged into the fray, the skilled pilot quickly making a mess of the Imperial forces and drawing a fair bit of attention to himself as a result. He was only shot down when the heavy cruiser entered the battle, and Kenobi decided that he could take it. It would be tricky, but if he could maneuver _just right_...

But he hadn't. Which was why he was now stuck in the pouring rain and stranded on a planet in the Outer Rim.

He found shelter just before the sun set, a cave that went deep into the rock face of the cliff and sloped upwards to keep the water from frequent flooding out, bore out by whatever wildlife that the planet had upon it. It didn't go back far, but it was far enough that he could conceal himself in the shadows in the back should anyone happen by. Dead, dried foliage and branches covered the ground, abandoned evidence of creatures that had nested here, and he kicked it into a pile with his soaked boots, touched his lightsaber to a stone, and dropped the glowing rock onto the pile, catching fire to it immediately. It may not last all night, but it would be enough.

" _You have_ ," Qui-Gon said, appearing again as soon as Obi-Wan began shrugging off his robes, " _two children to watch after now. Reckless actions like this will get you killed and leave them fatherless_."

"You don't get to lecture me about being a parent, Qui-Gon, because you _sucked_ at it," Obi-Wan snarled, his golden eyes glowing dangerously in the dark shadows of the cave. "Don't forget what it is that you have created. Darth Lumis and Darth Vader, Sith Lords primed for the fall by _your hand_."

" _It's true that I've failed_ ," the spirit said sadly. " _But my failures won't keep me from helping you avoid failure as well_. _Luke and Leia_ -"

"Could you even _be_ a father?" Obi-Wan asked, running his hand over his slicked hair to wipe the water away. "Have you ever even had sex? Do you know _how_ to do it? I know you and Master Thal never-"

" _I know how it's done, Obi-Wan, yes_ ," the spirit quickly cut in. " _I was young once too, I had my share of wild and reckless behavior. And while we're on the subject, you_ -"

"I always thought," Kenobi interrupted again, "that there was something between you and Luminara after I fell to the Dark Side." A wry, lopsided smirk came to the Sith's lips when the spirit balked and looked _highly_ uncomfortable. "The rooms in the Jedi Temple were always _so_ cold, did you ever warm your bed with her? Was that little minx holding out on me? Was she just waiting for an older, _wiser_ Jedi to show her the ways of the Force?"

" _You know she is likely dead, do you not_?" Qui-Gon said as he crossed his arms over his chest, completely unamused, and the Sith Lord almost seemed to wince at the idea. " _I need you to focus. Luke and Leia need you, Obi-Wan, they_ -"

"They don't need me," Kenobi said softly, his bare back to the wall and sliding down to sit on the ground, wincing as he did and swiftly reaching behind him to touch at the sudden sharp stab of pain, his fingers touching warm, slick blood from a wound he didn't even notice he sustained. Qui-Gon carefully looked the man over, touching his mind, his heart, and found it all frozen over, his thoughts and feelings concealed behind the thick, icy wall of the Dark Side. The spirit didn't need any great powers in the Force to see that there was something more to the usually careful and cautious Obi-Wan's sudden dangerous and reckless behavior.

" _You are their father_ ," Qui-Gon said slowly, sinking to sit beside the Sith Lord on the ground, and the golden eyes quickly turned to look away from him. " _Of course they need you. They may not ever know the sacrifices you have made for them, but before they were even born, they felt you support them. That is not a thing that the spirit forgets_."

"And were I to just leave, they have families that will raise them and love them." He scoffed. "It may be safer that way. Those close to me are _never_ safe."

" _Nobody is safe anywhere now that Darth Sidious is Emperor_ ," Qui-Gon said quietly. " _The safest place now may be near you._ " The man was silent, and for a long while, th only sound that could be heard was the crackling of the fire and the pouring of the rain. " _Obi-Wan_."

"I killed their mother," the Sith said quickly. "What right have I to be their father?"

" _Beyond your promise to Padmé that you would raise her children as your own and keep them safe, no matter the cost_?" Though Obi-Wan was not looking at him, Qui-Gon could see him wince. " _When Padmé feared for the lives of her children, she didn't turn to Bail Organa for help. She didn't go to the Jedi she knew and trusted._ _She turned to you, a Separatist, a Sith Lord, a murderer and manipulator, even knowing how dangerous you are. She chose you to be the father of her children. That must count for something_."

Obi-Wan was silent. The spirit could see the tense muscles in his back slowly relax, his clenched jaw go slack, ease smoothing out his features, and in place of his previous reckless frenzy fell a somber, resigned sadness. "My son would have been a year old today," the Sith whispered, "if he were delivered on schedule. If he lived." Biting his lip, Kenobi finally looked at the spirit beside him. "I couldn't save my own son. How am I supposed to be able to save Padmé's children? I couldn't even find a way to save _her_ that made any sense at all."

" _There are forces at work that even you don't understand, Master of the Sith. Do you believe that Padmé's life paid for the safety of her children_?" Obi-Wan nodded. " _Then trust her to keep them safe even now. Don't throw her sacrifice away by abandoning her children_."

"I won't," Kenobi said softly. "I never would, I couldn't, I just..." He growled in frustration and kicked dirt at the fire, the flames hissing as he rubbed at his eyes. "I was just thinking out loud," he said, calmer this time. "I don't know what came over me. Too many ghosts, I suppose." A faint, playful smile, played at his lips, but the expressive golden eyes couldn't conceal the hints of pain that lay just beneath. "Being haunted is very stressful."

Qui-Gon chuckled softly, the ice around the Sith Lord slowly melting, and the spirit could feel the guilt that ate at him, the depression that drove him to be reckless and careless with his own life, and the small, sharp ray of light that was his love for Padmé's children, _his_ children, and the spirit knew it would be alright. Like so many new fathers, Obi-Wan was nervous, and his own failures to protect his friends, his lovers, his child pushing him to believe his failure with Luke and Leia was predetermined. As he had said, he _was_ haunted. By Satine and their unborn child. By Quinlan Vos, and now by Padmé Amidala as well. One day, the Sith Lord may come to see that the hands that reached to him from beyond the grave didn't grasp at him to pull him down, but to help raise him up, just as they had done in life.

Just as he would do for him now.

" _Haunting you is not exactly a party either_ ," Qui-Go said, his voice affected with bored indifference. " _Maybe I'll just go haunt Yoda. Or the twins, they could stand to have a good haunting_."

Obi-Wan _scoffed_ , the pain fleeing from his eyes in an instant. "And you think there would be a party in that _disgusting_ swamp? With a nine hundred year old green creature? And Luke and Leia are _infants_ , what do they know about a party." The Sith Lord shook his head. "You best stick with me, Qui-Gon. You may not be invited, but it's a hell of a party to crash."

Qui-Gon smiled softly at his old student. " _You'll be alright_ , _Obi-Wan_." For just a moment, the Sith Lord looked uncertain and unsure, but the moment faded quickly, and he nodded. He'd be alright. He could feel it.


	7. Ladies' Night

**AN:** **Alright! This one's for AngelQueen. I liked this idea a lot, especially since we don't get to see a lot of things from Padme's POV, and that girl's been through some SHIT. Like, some serious, emotional shit. The psychology of abuse victims, and people who have affairs is extremely complicated. There's a lot of emotions tied up in that, and I tried to do my best with it, but...well, hopefully I pulled it off. Also, three cheers for Mandalorian lack of tact. So much fun. Enjoy, kids! Another one-shot tomorrow, probably. A lot of you guys are asking for something with a certain Krayt Dragon. Hmm...wonder why...**

 _Ladies' Night_

"Now listen..." Cody hissed, taking Shaak Ti by the arm and leading her to the wall, stopping just outside the large, ornate doors leading to the spacious living room of Mustafar's palace. "Kenobi and I are going to be gone for a few days, and he's _really_ nervous about leaving." The Togruta opened her mouth to speak, but the clone lay a finger on her lips, his face stern and commanding, and she silently obeyed his demand to not talk. "He _has_ to go, understand? We need to give Skywalker something to chase or he'll return to Coruscant, and once he does, the twins aren't safe anymore."

"I understand," the Jedi said softly, laying a hand on the armor covering the clone's chest, and Cody drew closer, an arm on the wall she was pressed against and trailing his hand up her thigh.

"Mand'alor Bo-Katan arrived this morning," Cody drawled, lightly touching the lekku that fell over her shoulders, and the Togruta shivered, moaning softly as she pressed against him, the hand on her thigh resting on her hip and drawing her closer, a pleased, hungry smile on his lips as she quickly reacted to his touch, just as he had trained her to do, just as she had come to _want_ to do. "She's here to watch Padmé and keep her company, _but_ ," he said, swiftly kissing her nose, "I'm more comfortable having a Force sensitive around to keep watch as well."

"She will come to no harm under my protection, Master."

"See that she doesn't," Cody growled, the sound deep in his chest, warning and dangerous and commanding, and with a whimper, the Jedi cupped his face between her hands, her thumbs running over his cheekbones as a thin smile he couldn't seem to repress spread across his lips. "Our Master has only just finished repairing the damage done to her mind, and it won't do to have something happen to her again. He... _cares_ for her, and his children must be protected."

"I won't fail you," she said softly, and with a growl, Cody bent over and kissed her hard, passionate and hungry and devouring, moaning into it as the Jedi dutifully touched and stroked, pliant and submissive to his touch. He only pulled away when he felt arousal in his veins, breathless and eyes dilated with yearning as he looked at his Jedi lover, the woman similarly flushed.

"Kenobi's a little worried about you being loose in the palace," Cody said softly. "You'll be here when I get back, won't you?"

"How could I not?" she asked sweetly, running long fingers over the clone's broad chest, and when he kissed her this time, it was soft and gently, not quite chaste, but with a tenderness he usually only exhibited when he lay tired and spent beside her, the hot Mandalorian blood cooling after their passions had been indulged.

"You always know the right things to say, don't you?"

"I do try..." Shaak Ti said, a soft smile on her lips, and Cody kissed the top of her montrails.

"Wait for me, lover," Cody said as they parted, a cocky smile on his lips, and Shaak Ti watched as the clone swaggered away, off to try and contain the Lord of the Sith that he had come to manage. When he was gone, the Jedi sighed and pressed open the doors and slipped into the large room, a soft smile on her lips as she watched Padmé Amidala pace before one of the room's long windows, the woman's eyes fixed on the docking bay below them where the _Umbra_ sat idling. Shaak Ti moved to look out at what she was gazing at and found her Master, the Sith Lord Obi-Wan, pacing like a caged animal before his ship, powerful and predatory in the way he stalked before the vessel, and the Jedi smiled softly as she looked again at Padmé, the woman's pacing lacking the Sith's almost feline grace, but mirroring his movements all the same. Bo-Katan stood nearby, her eyes narrowed as she watched the woman, her hands resting on the hilts of her blasters, and Shaak Ti sensed no small amount of resentment within the woman, and she couldn't help but wonder why.

"You're holding your breath, Senator," the Jedi said softly, and Padmé quickly stopped and looked at her, her eyes wide as if she hadn't noticed that he entered, and after a moment, the woman exhaled, chuckling nervously. "You've no reason to be afraid."

"Don't I?" Padmé said frantically. "My husband and Obi-Wan are going to destroy each other. What happens of Anakin finds me? What is he going to do to my children if he does? What if Anakin _kills_ Obi-Wan for everything that I've done!"

Bo-Katan scoffed. "Oh, so _you_ seduced _him_ , is that it?" Padmé looked at the hard woman, her eyes wide and shocked, and with a sneer, the Mandalorian crossed her arms over her chest. "Obi-Wan had no part in slipping between your legs? None at all?" Tongue-tied, the Senator flushed deeply, and the Jedi lay a comforting hand on her back and gently urged her away from the window, away from the sight of Obi-Wan and Cody down below, the clone grabbing the Sith's arm and pulling him toward the ship as Kenobi walked purposefully back toward the palace.

"There's no need to be crass, Mand'alor," Shaak Ti said softly, leading Padmé to sit upon the couch in the middle of the room, the woman sighing in relief as she got off her feet. Bo-Katan rolled her eyes.

"And why shouldn't I be?" the Mandalorian asked, her voice strong and firm and confused. "There isn't a virgin between us, and _none_ of us are strangers to indulging our physical desires." She grinned wickedly when the other two women flushed and looked away. "I heard you this morning, _Jedi_ , screaming and moaning for the man that owns you. It sure is a funny way of following that code of yours, and proof that Padmé Amidala spreads her legs is growing inside her _right now_."

"And you?" Padmé snapped back, her temper overcoming whatever shame and guilt she had been feeling earlier. "Are _all_ Mandalorians so casual about what should be private and personal? Is _that_ why adoption is built into your culture? I imagine unwanted pregnancy is common when your women _can't keep their legs closed_."

A wide, pleased smile spread across the Mandalorian's face. "Your child is making you fierce. Good, it means it will be strong. Satine grew ferocious as well when she was with child." She walked closer to the other two women and draped her arms across the back of an armchair opposite the couch. "But no," she said softly, "we adopt because we are warriors, and fathers often don't come home." That sobered Padmé, and she looked away from Bo-Katan, Shaak Ti's hand resting on her shoulder when the Jedi sensed shame in the woman.

"I'm sorry," Padme said softly, her voice wavering with emotion, and the Mandalorian scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Don't be sorry. The fact is, we all have lovers, and not one of us is a stranger to sex. Now, are we children, or can we approach this like _women_."

"What about you?" Padmé asked softly, a shy smile on her lips and furious color on her cheeks. "It's easy enough to point out the flaws in others, but what about you?"

"It's not a flaw," Bo-Katan said swiftly. "And I was fourteen."

"Fourteen!" Padmé gasped, her hands flying to her mouth to try and cover some of her shock. When _she_ was fourteen, she had been a queen, wrapped up in politics and an invasion of her planet and unable to even _consider_ men. But the redhead just shrugged.

"I was a warrior of Death Watch, and we were at war with my sister. If you're old enough to fight, you're old enough to fu-"

"Yes, _thank you_ ," Shaak Ti said swiftly, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked at the wolfish grin on the face of Mandalore's leader. "This does not bear discussion, there is _nothing_ to discuss." Bo-Katan just rolled her eyes and pushed away from the armchair, taking up a post by the window as she looked out over the lava flows. The Jedi took Padmé's hand, the girl laughing softly, but she could sense that something was wrong. "Are you settling in well?" she asked gently, and Padmé bit her lip and nodded, but would not meet her gaze. "Is Master Kenobi treating you well?"

The Senator gasped as she looked at the Jedi, her brown eyes filled with something close to panic and fear, a sense of dread and guilt settling over her that made her mind feel muddled and confused, a mire of emotions that Shaak Ti could not sort through. It was a tangled web, a _mess_ , and it needed to be undone. "Obi-Wan is..." she said slowly, pushing through emotions simply to speak. "He's wonderful...more than I deserve for what I've done. Anakin..." she started, choking on the lump in her throat as tears began to well in her eyes. "Anakin never deserved what I did to him, I should never have been unfaithful, none of this would have happened if I just..." She put her face in her hands, her breath hitching as she sobbed, and the Jedi pulled the young mother close. "This is my fault..."

They were silent for a long while as they listened to Padmé's sobs, the girl doing what she could to repress them, to just stop, but she couldn't. Shaak Ti held her close, resting her chin on the smaller woman's head as the girl's tears wetted the front of her robes. The guilt was real, the pain palpable, and Shaak Ti understood. Someone Padmé loved very much was hurting, and the empathetic young woman took it all upon herself to assume responsibility for what had started the entire thing. Shaak Ti knew better, of course. Lumis had come to her one night in a snarling fit and tore her lover out of her, separating them in two when they had so blissfully been one, just so the Sith could sit upon the bed and rage against his Master Sidious and the trap he had laid for him. Lumis had been a pawn in his schemes, and the Sith Apprentice was just realizing exactly how deep it went.

He had been used and manipulated, as had Padmé, the two old friends once attracted to each other so long ago unwittingly forced by the Sith Master to consummate a lust that had been allowed and encouraged to simmer, all for the purpose of bringing Anakin Skywalker to the Dark Side. And by the time Lumis discovered what was happening...it was too late. He had begun to care for Padmé, come to see her as something to be protected, something that the Force had led him to, and when she became pregnant, it was all over. Shaak Ti needed to help her understand this. That first push was all they needed to continue their affair, the first taste of that which was forbidden the most difficult, with each time becoming easier, and in that first step, both Lumis and Padmé had been _pushed_.

"I don't get it," Bo-Katan said, Padmé looking up to see the piercing green eyes looking right at her. "You keep saying this is your fault, but _this_ ," she said, pointing at the ground, "isn't your fault."

"It is," Padmé insisted. "Everything was _fine_ until I was unfaithful. _I_ cheated on Anakin, I betrayed the man I love for something I..." Her face twisted in disgust. "I gave up love for _lust_. I'm worse than an _animal_."

Bo-Katan simply shrugged. "The heart wants what it wants, as does the body." Her eyes narrowed dangerously and she pushed off her place by the window to stride closer to the Senator and the Jedi, her hands on her hips. "But _nothing_ excuses the physical abuse you have endured at the hands of your husband. _Nothing_ you could have done _ever_ gives him the right to threaten the life of your _child_. How long are you going to allow him to do whatever he wishes with you because of this? How far will your guilt allow him to go?"

"I-"

"When he murders your child, will you still think it's your fault?" Bo-Katan spat, her voice bitter and almost hateful, and the Jedi pulled the shaking Padmé closer to her, her hand sliding into her long, dark curls and quietly hushing her as she cried.

"That is _enough_ ," Shaak Ti hissed, and the Mandalorian looked over the pair, bit her lip, and looked away.

"I met Obi-Wan," Bo-Katan said softly, "in the first year of the war. He came to Concordia to bring Death Watch Satine's justice. He infiltrated our compound and..." She growled and ran a hand through her shoulder length red hair. "Pre Vizsla, the leader of Death Watch at the time, was my... _well_ , I guess we were lovers." Padmé looked at the Mandalorian woman as she finally flushed with color. "Obi-Wan dominated him, made him _beg_ , made him offer up everything that made him Mandalorian and forced all of Death Watch to look as he did it."

"That's... _awful_ ," Padmé said softly, but Bo-Katan just shook her head.

"Obi-Wan was stronger, and it was his right. He bested Pre in single combat. Mandalore follows the strong, and Pre Vizsla was strong until Obi-Wan. Then he was weak. Unworthy of leadership. Unworthy of _me_."

"You left him?" Padmé gasped, her tears stopped as she listened to the warrior, her head tilted as she listened, her demeanor curious.

"I did." Bo-Katan shrugged. "I would have bedded Obi-Wan if I could. Who doesn't want to taste Mandalore's Shadow King?"

"Did you not care for your lover at all?" Padmé asked, stunned and flushed, trying to understand the woman but struggling to. Their cultures were far too different.

"I did, yes," Bo-Katan sighed. "Until I didn't. I admired his strength, and when it was gone, it was time to move on." She pointed at Padmé. "Your husband was kind until he wasn't. You may still love him, Senator Amidala, but no man that strikes his wife can be called kind, and he certainly isn't deserving of you. It's time to move on."

" _How_?" Padmé asked, growing desperate. "I love Anakin, I married him, we made a _child_ together! That wasn't some... _mistake_ , it was an act of love! There is still good in him, I _know_ there is!"

"I give up!" Bo-Katan declared. "Good in him, are you _stupid_? Anyone can be good when they get their way! Will he be good again before he murders your child? Or does that come after? I'm not sure, please, _enlighten me_."

"Padmé," Shaak Ti said gently when the woman moved to respond, the Togruta's hand resting on the woman's thin shoulder. "It is my understanding that you were pushed into infidelity."

"...Qui-Gon said he felt I was manipulated," she softly confessed. "He said he felt darkness in me, but..." She sniffled. "I've wanted Obi-Wan for a long time. He and I, when we were young, I..." Padmé wiped her eyes, a soft smile on her lips. "He was the first boy I loved." Shaak Ti smiled gently.

"The heart doesn't forget love," the Jedi said. "Emotions and old memories run deep. It isn't wrong to think fondly on another, and from what I understand, that fondness was turned to lust by a Sith."

"Not by Obi-Wan," Padmé said quickly. "Qui-Gon said it wasn't him."

"Then perhaps you both were used." The Senator bit her lip and looked away.

"...but I kept doing it," she whispered. "Even after Obi-Wan said he broke the control over me, he... _we_ kept doing it. I-I _wanted_ it!" Padmé gasped, whimpering as she bit back more tears, but the Jedi simply listened, warm and understanding, and Padmé saw no judgement in those black eyes. Just sympathy. "Obi-Wan said I _should_ have a lover because Anakin-" Her breath hitched, and she inhaled, nodding as her chest stopped quivering. "Obi-Wan said it's natural to turn to a lover for comfort when my husband... _reacted_ the way he did. But he only did it because I was unfaithful! And I wanted _so badly_ to be with Obi-Wan again, it was the only thing I could think about after Anakin choked me."

"Oh, he _choked you_?" Bo-Katan drawled, poison dripping off her words. "Is that the cost of infidelity? Are you expected to endure abuse every time you run to your lover for some kindness?"

"W-well, _no_ , but-"

"But _nothing_." Bo-Katan pointed an accusing finger at the Senator. "You, Padmé Amidala, are an abused woman. You might still love him, you might still excuse his behavior, but you are here _now_ because he threatened to kill your children! How many times do you need to have sex with Obi-Wan to make that alright!" Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Or have you already paid for that? Have you already spread your legs enough to pay for the death of your child?"

" _It's not alright_!" Padme shouted, her eyes narrowing in rage and sadness and pain as tears flowed freely from them, and Bo-Katan fell silent, watching the woman as she broke. "It's not alright, it was _never_ alright! I wanted to stop seeing Obi-Wan! After I got pregnant, we _agreed_ to stop so I could do the right thing!" She laughed bitterly. "But it wasn't enough. That's why I'm here! Anakin became so... _violent_ , so hateful, it was _so easy_ to turn to Obi-Wan." She sniffled, her breath hitching as she struggled to catch her breath for a moment. "Especially after he became so... _gentle_." She smiled softly. "And sweet. He _never_ touched me roughly after I got pregnant, and he..." She couldn't go on. Shaak Ti pulled Padmé back into her embrace.

"And he said he'd raise your child." The Senator nodded, her face buried in the Jedi's robes.

"What did you expect?" Bo-Katan asked as she sat beside Padmé on the couch, her tone much softer than before. "He's Mandalorian."

"You're a good mother, Senator," the Jedi said softly. "Even if you do not love Master Kenobi, it's clear you love your child." She smiled at the smaller girl, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "Perhaps you can come to love each other. You both suffer from wounds that love has inflicted. Nothing but love can heal that."

Padmé was silent for a long while, clutching tightly to the Jedi as she sniffled, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her shirt. She loved Anakin. Even after all the things he had done to her. She felt she deserved it all, and being with Obi-Wan only made it worse, made her feel guilty every time she saw him, every time she craved his gentle caress, every time she let him inside her so she could feel some comfort and pleasure in the arms of a lover. She was afraid of Anakin and what he may do, came to dread the times when he would come to call, when his grasp would bruise and hurt, when he would tear his pleasure from her like she was a possession, a thing to be coveted and kept, but she endured it, _welcomed_ it, because she knew she deserved no better for laying in Obi-Wan's arms.

But these two women...

She had been afraid to speak to Bail about this for fear of what he may think of her. It was her doing, after all. Palpatine had understood, had seen her point, had _agreed_ with her, and not only made her feel like she needed Obi-Wan, but that she needed Anakin as well. But Bo-Katan's brutal honesty had shocked her, and Shaak Ti's calm reason allowed her to somehow see past the emotions she had tangled up within her. Her affair with Obi-Wan was...wrong. A mistake, though not one she had been guilty of at first. But Anakin was wrong too, and there was no excuse for what he had done. _None_.

The choice was suddenly an obvious one, clear as day when before it had been impossible to see. She had a lover, perhaps not a good man, but a protective man, a gentle man, a _father_ to the child she carried, and that was all that mattered. She loved Obi-Wan once. She could come to love him again, and it would be _so easy_ to do, especially when he had whisked her away to his palace when she lay broken in her own mind. He had healed her, had touched her so kindly, so gently it was as if her body had forgotten what it was like, had kissed the bruises on her body away, had slipped inside her with such care that just the memory of him within her made her ache for him. He would sleep with his arms protectively around her, his hands laid over the child inside her, and on one occasion, she had awoken to the sound of his smooth, clipped accent speaking in the hushed tones of a language she didn't understand to her child.

A jarring comparison to Anakin's very serious promise of murder.

She could live here and be happy, _safe_ with her Separatist, Sith Lord lover. Anakin was a problem, a constant fear in the back of her mind, but...Obi-Wan would figure out what to do. She still held out hope that perhaps one day, he'd see reason. Perhaps even his temper would cool with time. But for now, she could be content with her lover. She knew she was no replacement for Satine, but perhaps Obi-Wan would be content with her as well.

"Thank you," Padmé whispered, smiling when Shaak Ti squeezed her tighter, and chuckling softly when Bo-Katan turned her nose in the air and _scoffed_. She was a hard woman, yes, but not so much as she appeared, and in Padmé's estimation, a hard shell hid a soft heart within Mand'alor Bo-Katan.

"I've had enough of this," the Mandalorian grumbled, leaning back against the couch. "If Obi-Wan is an inadequate lover, just say so."

Before Padmé could answer through her soft chuckling, Shaak Ti snorted. "He's _hardly_ inadequate," the Jedi drawled casually, drawing shocked, slack jawed stares from the other two women before she realized what he had said and _immediately_ struggled to backpedal, the relentless Bo-Katan pushing the Jedi mercilessly to explain _exactly_ how she knew that. Padmé leaned back on the couch, a smile on her face and her hand resting on her swollen stomach, her eyes closing in satisfaction as she felt the baby shift and kick within her. She hadn't felt peace like this in some time. Here, she was free from the war, selfish, perhaps, but she was _so weary_ of it. Only a few weeks ago, she lived in dread of what would become of her and her child, fearful of what her gentle Anakin was becoming, confusion settling over her as her savage, passionate lover slowly became sweet and gentle as her husband became increasingly violent.

But now, from today and onwards, Padmé had two new friends, powerful women that had lent her their strength when she had none, and slowly, she began to feel like herself again. She was changed, yes, but it was for the better. Soon she'd be a mother, and her child would be protected by a mighty Lord of the Sith, dangerous and powerful, a self-confessed bad man, but just the sort of bad man that Padmé needed. She smiled brightly as Bo-Katan finally got her way, and the Jedi sat, her hands covering her eyes, as she relayed the story of her tryst with Mandalore's Shadow King, the child beneath her hand moving and shifting. She was safe. _Finally_.


	8. The Great Krayt Escape

_The Great Krayt Escape_

Owen Lars hadn't stopped following Obi-Wan since he arrived, the grumpy farmer talking incessantly in an attempt to lecture the Sith Lord, which not only made the moisture farmer the literal only one in the galaxy possessing of the nerve to do such a thing, but it also made him _entirely_ clueless. Obi-Wan found it somewhat... _endearing_. Even after all this time, Owen had _no idea_ what the Sith Lord was capable of, even though they had talked about what had happened, had heard the stories, had _seen_ the powers, not just in Kenobi, but in young Luke as well. Still, he didn't believe it. Some things, Obi-Wan supposed, were just beyond the understanding of normal people, and the Force was a difficult thing to understand, even for those sensitive to it.

Obi-Wan looked out the window into the courtyard of the Lars homestead from inside the garage where he sat, smiling softly as he watched seven year old Luke, his green training saber in hand as he swung it in the air, his movements choppy and far too fast, lacking the grace that would come with age and understanding, but he was still young. Beside him stood Qui-Gon, the spirit a shimmering light in the hot air, difficult to see for the light reflecting off the sand, like a mirage in the desert. Periodically, Luke would look up at his watchful teacher and smile, the spirit softly directing his movements and showing him slowly how best to position his hands, angle his wrists, move his feet, shift his weight.

"And another thing!" Owen said forcefully, drawing the Sith's attention away from Luke, and Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed in anger, his fist clenching around the tool in his hand he was using to fix one of the farm's droids. He had promised dear, sweet Beru that he would be patient with Owen, and he intended to keep that promise. Beru lacked the dislike of Obi-Wan that Owen seemed to possess. She rather liked him, much to her husband's distaste, and where Owen did all in his power to steer Luke away from the path his father took, Beru encouraged it because young Luke _loved_ his studies with the mystical Force. So today, Obi-Wan wouldn't kill her husband.

 _Maybe_.

"Just one more thing?" Obi-Wan asked innocently, returning to his work on the droid. "It just seems like you said that hours ago. Can you even count to one? Do you understand the _concept_ of one?" He smiled at the farmer as his face reddened with anger. "Ah, careful now, Owen. Anger leads to the Dark Side."

Furious, he pointed to the seven year old in the yard. "You're making him _crazy. Look at him! He's_ talking to himself _! And he does it a lot_!" Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.

"I told you before, Owen, he isn't talking to himself, he's talking to a _Force spirit_."

" _A ghost_!"

"Of Qui-Gon Jinn, a Jedi _you knew_! Every child needs a Ghost-Uncle! My kids are just lucky enough to have one!" He tightened the bolts on the droid as he finished, wiping his hands on the rag he had placed on the workbench. "Honestly, I don't see the problem."

"Oh, you don't?!" Owen growled, standing between Obi-Wan and the view of his son, and glowing eyes focused on the farmer and tried to imagine the man as being anything other than grumpy, though he was having little success. "Just look what happened to his father!"

"I _am_ his father."

"His _real_ father!" Obi-Wan scoffed.

"I _am_ his real father, not _once_ have I threatened to murder my kids." At that, the farmer hissed and looked away. "Alright, Owen, what is it you want this time?" Kenobi asked when he felt the stubborn man's anger waver slightly. He _always_ won these arguments.

"I don't want Luke doing this...this _stuff_ ," the farmer cried, exasperated. "You left him here so he would be safe, but these _magic tricks_ aren't safe! They _ruin people_! Look what happened to Anakin! He's _evil_ now! He was never a bad man before! Look what happened to the Jedi, betrayed and _dead_!" His eyes narrowed as he looked at the nonchalant Sith Lord. "And look at _you_! You're a murderer, an adulterer, a..." He blushed, stumbling over his own words for a moment before he found them. "A hedonistic _sex addict_!"

"Sith hells, is that my problem?"

"Nobody is safe around you!"

"Is _this_ why you're so gray, Owen?" Obi-Wan lazily asked, his cheek against his palm as he looked at the flustered farmer. "Are you worried about little old me?"

"I'm worried about _Luke_!" he snarled, his temper rising further when the Sith Lord just grinned. "And I'm going gray because I _work_ for a living, Kenobi, that's what happens when you get older! We can't all be pampered, ageless _children_ like you!"

"Oh, is _that_ why?" Obi-Wan asked innocently, golden eyes wide as he looked at the man. "Beru says it's the harshness of Tatooine that ages a person beyond their time, but..." He gasped and snapped his fingers. "Hey! _Maybe_ all the sex is what's keeping me young!"

"Or _maybe_ it's because you _eat souls_!"

Obi-Wan whistled as he leaned back against the workbench. "Careful, Owen, all the stress is aging you. Any more gray hairs and your wife's going to start wanting a... _younger_ man," he drawled, running a hand through his own sandy blond hair, laughing when the farmer's anger spiked. Owen grabbed the Sith Lord by the robes that folded over his chest and growled dangerously.

"No more magic," he snarled. "No more light swords, no more Jedi nonsense, and no more _ghosts_. He looks like he's _crazy_ talking to the air like that, and it's going to attract trouble and ruin him, just like it ruined Anakin!" Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and brushed the man off of him.

"He's my son, Owen."

"He's _my nephew_!"

"Yes, and I am _grateful_ for how much you care for him," Obi-Wan said, his hand extended and his tone placating, and with a heavy sigh, the farmer sat across the workbench from the Sith Lord. Obi-Wan passed him a flask, and looking at it cautiously, Owen took it from the Sith, unscrewed the lid and drank, his face scrunching at the bitter taste and the burning as it went down, and a moment later, his head was on the table as tears ran from his eyes, the drink far more potent than he had been expecting and certainly _not_ meant for human consumption. They _always_ ended like this. Every time. It was becoming something of a ritual.

"What _is_ that?" Owen rasped when he could speak again through strained coughing.

"Port in a Storm," the Sith Lord chirped. "Out of Pamarthe. It's some of the strongest stuff in the galaxy. I thought after the Mandalorian Narcolethe, you'd want to try your hand at something else that could kill you."

" _Why_ would anyone willingly drink this?" Owen gagged.

"I don't know..." Obi-Wan mused, taking the flask from him and looking at it contemplatively. "It sure is versatile, though. I was using it as a solvant on your droid repairs." With a groan, Owen's head hit the table again, peering up at Kenobi with watering eyes as the Sith Lord drank from the flask, the burning liquid sliding down his throat with no trouble at all.

"I'm adding alcoholic to your list of vices, Kenobi." With a cocky smirk, the Sith Lord raised his flask.

"I'll drink to that." Obi-Wan drained the remainder of the flask, carefully looking at Owen as the farmer recovered. "...you know you're all safe with me, right? I wouldn't let anything happen to anyone in here, it's why I came today."

"...I know," Owen said softly, his foot tapping the newly repaired droid. "I just think you're getting in over your head. This isn't like the Tuscans from last year."

"Can I go this time?!" Both men looked as Luke rushed into the garage, jumping up on his father's lap and climbing to sit on the workbench, a wide smile on his face, his eyes bright and hopeful, and Obi-Wan smiled and laid a hand on the boy's head.

"Not this time, Luke," he said softly, his heart aching when the boy's face fell and filled with disappointment.

"But _daaaaaaaad_ ," Luke whined, his eyes wide and pleading. "It's a _dragon_! A real life dragon! How can I be a true Mandalorian if I don't fight worthy opponents!"

"And you _will_ , my son, but there will be no worthy opponents to fight if you die stupidly before you are of age." Luke pouted.

"Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. I bet you'd bring _Leia_ with you." Obi-Wan scoffed and gestured out to the yard.

"Do you _see_ Leia here? I brought with me Mandalorian _warriors_ for this task, seasoned men, not children." He kissed the sulking boy's forehead. "I do this only to keep you safe. Bringing you is against the point of this." Luke smiled despite himself, his anger and disappointment quickly let go and forgotten.

"Will you bring me back a tooth?"

"Of course." Obi-Wan stood and lifted the boy from the table and placed him safely on the ground. "Now, while we're gone, I want you to practice your Form Three lightsaber combat. Walk through the katas, show them to me when you get back." Luke's face lit up, and he took the hilt of his training weapon in his hand.

"Will I get a real lightsaber when I know all the forms?!"

"You'll have one when you're ready. The Force will tell you when that is."

"Ghost-Uncle Qui-Gon and I made a sand castle!" the boy cried excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet next to his father as the Sith slowly made his way to the _Umbra_. "With the Force!"

"Oh?" Obi-Wan asked, amused, and the boy's nose wrinkled, the bounce leaving his step as he walked ponderously.

"Well...mostly it was Ghost-Uncle Qui-Gon."

"Practice that while I'm gone as well," Kenobi said, leaning down to kiss the boy's blond head. "Show me what you can do when I get back, and we can build one together before we go get your sister." He knelt before the boy and leaned in, a sly, secretive smirk on his face. "We'll see if we can't outdo Qui-Gon, the Jedi are _so_ austere. Big and fancy and extravagant is the way for us, right, son?" Luke laughed and nodded.

"Right!" Ruffling the boy's hair, Obi-Wan walked into the _Umbra_ and took off, flying low over the sand dunes toward his destination in the barren mountains and deep canyons of the desert planet.

* * *

Tatooine had an abundance of a few things that Obi-Wan found distasteful. The first of these things was sand, irritating, but not dangerous, though it _did_ offend his admitted vanity, and he always felt in need of a long bath after trouncing about in it for too long. Long enough, and the bath would have to include a beautiful woman to cleanse not just his body, but his mind of the trauma of it. The other things Kenobi disliked he only disliked because they were threatening to Luke, and on the rugged, lawless planet, there was actually very little that was threatening.

The Empire left well enough alone out here, keeping small outposts in Mos Eisley and Mos Espa manned by bored, jaded Imperials that felt cast off and abandoned, or young cadets just out of the Academies that were itching to go somewhere else. The Hutts weren't a problem either, and though Jabba still sent his thugs to the Lars homestead monthly as part of their shakedowns for protection money, the vicious Mandalorian bounty hunter he sent, Boba Fett, somehow _always_ left hours later, having been paid in Beru's stew and a glass of blue milk. Being seen with Jabba's thugs kept other criminals away, if any ever had the notion to rob such a remote place.

The threats, of course, were the wildlife, uncontrolled and dangerous in some cases, though Kenobi had been quick to neutralize the local Tuscan Raiders that took up in the hills and canyons in the surrounding area, a thing that Owen was both very concerned about and begrudgingly grateful for. The Tuscans having been responsible for the deaths of his father and his step-mother, the young farmer was rightly cautious when it came to the native sand people, and because of the very real threat, Obi-Wan took yearly trips into the hills to root them out, not killing them all, but frightening them enough that they would leave and tell other tribes of his dangerous the area was. It had worked, but the solution to that problem had given rise to another.

Without the Tuscans and their tribal rights of adulthood, the area saw a steep increase in the population of Krayt Dragons, Tatooine's apex predator, huge, dangerous reptiles that grew to be thirty feet tall and nearly a hundred feet in length, if they were of the smaller, more common breed, the large creature now absolutely swarming the canyons. When one of the moisture farms out in the Jundland Wastes was attacked by the creatures, Obi-Wan gathered Cody and Boba Fett, and it was time to get to work. The beasts were a threat to Luke, and they couldn't be allowed to live. Of course, these were the smaller variety. If they were the larger species, the much rarer Greater Krayt...well, Obi-Wan didn't care to think about that.

They landed the _Umbra_ on one of the plateaus of the canyons, the dried and sunbaked rock providing plentiful caves and shelter for the beasts to nest in, and gathering their weapons, the three men ventured out into the hills with the intention of seriously thinning the number of the massive reptiles. Boba got the first kill, his sharp eyes catching sight of one of the beasts as it stuck its head out of a cave, an expertly aimed shot to the head killing it instantly. Though his helmet was on, the other two knew he was smirking.

"Hey, dad," Baba started, but Cody quickly raised his hand.

"We _never_ shook on that bet, so _no_ , I'm keeping my credits." Boba looked pleadingly at the Sith Lord for a moment, but the amused smirk on his lips was all he needed to know he wasn't going to get his way. He growled as he lowered his helmet's scanner, zooming in toward the creature on the ground and activating the low-light filter to see inside the cave it crawled out of.

"Looks like it goes further back," Fett said, snapping up the scanner. "What do you think? Take the fight to them, or draw them out?"

"I don't want to be here all day," Kenobi said, yawning as he took both his lightsabers in his hand. "I have a sand castle to build. In we go, let's get this over with." Enhanced by the Force, Kenobi leapt across the rocky crags of the canyon to reach the mouth of the cave, the Mandalorians following behind through the air on the jetpacks strapped to their backs, their heavy blasters in hand and the night vision activated in their helmet visors to allow them to see through the dark of the cave. They walked casually through, Obi-Wan flanked by the two Mandalorians, his weapons in hand but unlit as Cody and Boba fired at every krayt they came across, the large, hissing reptiles crawling along the walls through the tunnels toward what they thought to be prey, only to be quickly killed by the expert marksmen.

On they went through the tunnels, the darkened caves opening up periodically to the sky above, holes in the canyon's network of subterranean tunnels inaccessible by any other means than by crawling through the krayt's territory. Each open space baked in sunlight saw upwards of twenty of the beasts sunning themselves upon the blazing rocks warmed by Tatooine's twin suns, and each of the reptiles quickly died under the fierce competition between father and son. So effective were the two cloned men that Kenobi returned his sabers to his belt and simply led the way while Boba and Cody counted their kills aloud, boasted for particularly excellent shots, argued when a kill was contested.

"Forty six," Boba said proudly when they had finished clearing another exposed cave of the hissing reptiles, and Cody just laughed.

"Fifty eight. As I said, age and experience trumps youth _every time_."

Boba grumbled as he primed his blaster rifle for the next spree. " _Technically_ , father, we're the same age."

" _Technically_ , son, you spent twice as long shitting yourself, you child. There's something to be said for swift aging, we matured faster."

"If being young was so bad," Boba said, raising his voice and shooting another krayt as it came hissing after them, "then _Obi-Wan_ wouldn't be sucking the life out of people to keep himself young! And that's _forty seven_ , old man. You better watch that lead of yours."

Cody shrugged. "I let you have that one so you'd feel better." Boba started to sputter in rage, and with a deep chuckle, Cody quickened his step to walk beside the Sith Lord. "Any idea where we're going?" Obi-Wan nodded.

"In my research, I read that krayt dragons are drawn to places that are strong in the Force, most notably the Dark Side of it." He smirked and tapped himself on the chest. "I _am_ a vergence in the Force. We're going to find a cavern big enough, I'm going to stir up the Dark Side, and we'll see what happens."

"That's going to be a lot of krayt dragons..." Boba said softly, and Cody just laughed.

"Have some faith, son. We're traveling with a _Sith Master_. What's the worst that could happen?"

It didn't take long for them to find it, a sprawling cave dappled with sunlight filtering in from cracks high above them, stalactites and stalagmites growing down from above and up from below, piles of sand pouring in thin streams from small openings in the walls. Obi-Wan jumped up to a rock formation, a large, disc-shaped platform sitting up on a narrow spike of rock, the Mandalorians flying up after him, and the three settled on the plateau, checking to make certain it was stable, and when everything seemed right, all their weapons checked, primed and ready, Obi-Wan took the Force in his hands and tore it open.

The Force howled with darkness, the winds whipping around them as the calm waters crashed with towering waves in the throes of a storm, and Obi-Wan felt power, pure and cold and wrathful rush through him as he plunged within his old wounds, tearing them open and allowing them to spill over with blood. It took no time at all for the cave to echo with the cries of the krayt dragons, the beasts rushing in and roaring for blood, and the Mandalorians immediately opened fire, even their rapid shooting not enough to keep the creatures back. Filled with rage that burned deep within him, his own dragon awaking to the smell of death, Obi-Wan drew his lightsabers, red and blue extending from his hands, and he jumped off the plateau into the throng of reptiles below. They were young, for the most part, not quite the size of a full adult and not nearly so tough, their scales having yet to harden with age, and the lightsabers cut through them quickly, each slash severing legs and tails and heads, each stab finding its way through eyes and into the brains behind. It was a good hunt. An easy hunt, and within minutes, Obi-Wan far surpassed Cody and Boba's count. The Mandalorians stopped keeping score after that.

A deafening roar suddenly echoed through the cave, so loud that Obi-Wan had to cover his ears, so loud that the other krayts scattered, running swiftly from the men they attacked and retreating into the safely of their smaller tunnels. Kenobi quickly jumped up to stand beside Cody and Boba, his eyes narrowed as he looked around, the danger palpable in the air. Whatever it was that could make a _krayt dragon_ , the apex predator of the harsh Tatooine, run away in fear was something to be wary of. A second roar, just as deafening, answered the first, and a moment later, the ground began to rumble, the platform they stood on shaking as stalactites dropped from above, and the three men jumped from their platform just as a collapse caused boulders to drop down where they were previously standing.

Their relief only lasted for a moment when the plateau upon it's thin foundation tilted, rocks clattering upon it as boulders rolled off the slops, and with a loud, dry crack, the stone base broke, and the plateau and the large, heavy rocks came tumbling down toward them. Smaller falling rocks kept them from running away, and Obi-Wan swiftly reached out above him, his hands extended toward the now clearly visible sky, and caught the collapsing structure with the Force, the weight of the effort sending him to his knees, his jaw clenched in concentration as Cody and Boba ran to safety. His arms shaking, Obi-Wan felt the anger within him spike, so cold it burned, the Dark Side laying its hands over his, drawing him near, embracing him with power, and with a growl of fury, Kenobi tilted the falling rocks away and pushed, sending to boulders and the large, broken pieces of the plateau flying through the air across the cave and away from the three men. Breathing fast and heavy, Obi-Wan rose to his feet, a smug look on his face as the shaking stopped, and he observed the damage around him.

"See?" he said, brushing off the dust on his robes. "No problem. _And_ I win the contest."

"You _always_ win the contest..." the two Mandalorians said in unison as they began crawling over fallen rocks and debris. Sensing something, Obi-Wan quickly reached out and grabbed their wrists, pulling them back just before the ground burst open, rock flying up into the air as a _huge_ light blue head rose from the cave floor, adorned with wicked horns and rows of long, sharp teeth. It snapped, wriggling out of the hole and pulling itself up with ten powerful legs, a long, spiked tail whipping out of the crevice as the dragon looked down upon the three men, positively tiny by comparison. Behind them, another creature arose, a hundred meters long and barking in short, loud screeches that deafened them.

Greater Krayt Dragons. And there were _two of them_.

"Oh, _shit_ ," Cody said softly, looking up at the savage beast, blaster raised and standing back to back with his son, the two Mandalorians opening fire upon the creatures to no effect at all. Quickly holstering the blasters, Cody drew and ignited his blue lightsaber as the Sith Lord tossed the darksaber to Boba Fett, the young clone igniting the weapon and keeping close to his father, Obi-Wan crouched and ready, lightsabers in hand. With a roar, the dragon swung its mighty tail, the barbed, spiked appendage whistling through the air like a whip, and as it did, Obi-Wan jumped into the air toward the wall, pushing off of it to land on the beast's back, the Mandalorain's taking to the air on jetpacks and quickly dodging and spinning out of the way of the other creature's tail and legs as it reared up. Kenobi dodged out of the way as the other dragon's tail whipped across the back of the one he was standing on, the beast screeching in fury, and Obi-Wan quickly ignited his lightsabers and raked them across the scaled of its back. It did... _nothing_.

"Are you _kidding me_?!" Kenobi shouted, dodging again as the tail raced toward him, and with a flash of fury, he extended his hand and shot lightning at the other beast, the blue electricity arching through the air and striking the creature full in the face as it lunged for the Mandalorians as they futilely hacked at its many legs. The high pitched whine that accompanied the barrage of lightning wasn't one of pain, but one of surprise. It didn't do anything to the creature at all.

"Alright, new plan!" Obi-Wan quickly shouted to the other two men, clipping his blue blade back onto his belt, lightning sparking around his hand as he shot the electricity at his own red blade, the weapon catching the energy, the plasma keeping the arching blue Force lightning jumping along its length. " _Run_. Just run! Up you go, Mandalorians, I'm right behind you."

"Are you kidding me?!" Cody shouted, looking between the two dragons and the long, long way up toward the two blazing suns, whipping tails and flailing legs and vicious jaws between them and safety. "How are we supposed to-"

With a roar of fury, one dragon lunged toward Cody, its snapping jaws just missing the man as he rocketed away and upwards, circling out of the way of the other, but the large head suddenly pulled back, a long horn sliding between Cody's back and the jetpack he wore, the device sparking as the fires from the thrusters extinguished. He hung off the horn, looking down at the dragon's long, thick neck, and he swung his lightsaber, but his reach wasn't long enough. Cody flailed for a moment before he realized that he couldn't dislodge himself. He was _stuck_. With a groan of irritation, Cody relaxed, his arms and legs dangling from where he hung. It was... _embarrassing_.

"Oh, _seriously, dad_?!" Boba shouted as he spun out of the way of a wild swipe, the darksaber arching around and cutting through a claw, but not severing it. "How did you even do that?!"

"Just lucky, I guess,"Cody drawled, watching as Obi-Wan ran along the length of his dragon and vaulted over to the one from which the clone hung, his electrically charged lightsaber digging into the beast's chest, and this time, the screech was one of pain. The dragon wrenched sideways, shaking Cody upon the horn and dislodging Obi-Wan, sending the Sith Lord plummeting down to the ground below, flipping in the air to land safely on his feet before he charged his blade with lightning again and grabbed a tail as it whipped by him, sending the Sith high into the air to land on the other dragon's back as it lunged toward Cody. The sudden presence upon it stopped the roaring beast, it's head swiftly turning to look at the cause of the sudden pain in its back as the red blade plunged between scales. It's neck slammed into the other dragon's head as it snapped at Boba Fett, allowing the young clone to narrowly avoid the snapping jaws and dislodging Cody from the horn he hung upon as the jetpack was ripped from his back, sending the man tumbling to the ground.

Cody scrambled to his feet, and frantically dodged out of the way of ten legs as they stomped and furiously pawed the ground as the dragon fought to shake the Sith Lord off its body, Kenobi diving past sharp teeth and powerful jaws as he ran up the beast's neck toward its head. The dragon reared up, and Obi-Wan shoved his lightsaber into its neck to act as a handhold, the blade not cutting in deep enough to harm the creature. Shrieking in fury and pain and thrashing its head, Obi-Wan held on for all he was worth as the beast tried futilely to knock its assailant off of it.

Below, Cody ran around legs, ducking and dodging and evading to the best of his abilities, having to skid to a quick halt and change directions more than once to avoid being stepped on, his blue blade striking out when he could in hopes that eventually, the lightsaber would decide to be effective against the hard, tough scales. He was so focused on avoiding being crushed to death that he didn't see the other krayt behind him, its maw open wide as it rushed toward him. One of the massive legs lifted, and Cody skid upon the ground and changed directions, pushing off the ground to leap into the air and dodge out of the way, and he found himself leaping into the open mouth of the second krayt, and jaws snapped closed around him.

With a howl of rage and panic, Boba swooped in toward the dragon, landed upon it's face and began slashing at its eyes, the beast growling in fury as it shook its head, trying to dislodge the clinging Mandalorian, and it suddenly stopped, its large eyes rolling in the back of its head as it slowly collapsed, its heavy body striking the ground and causing the earth to shake, its head bouncing off the hard stone, and Boba quickly placed his feet on the bottom row of sharp teeth, his hands upon its upper jaw, and forced its mouth open. A long, thick tongue lolled out of it's gaping maw, and with it came Cody, his helmet lost, his eyes dazed, his hair and armor coated with ample amounts of thick saliva, his lightsaber clutched tightly in his hand.

Above them, the other krayt dragon thrashed its head as it tried to dislodge Obi-Wan, the Sith Lord hanging on tightly to its horns, his eyes closed, his presence calm and cold in the Force as he quietly spoke words in ancient Sith to the mighty beast beneath him. With a pulse of the Dark Side within him, Obi-Wan violently forced his way into the creature's mind, tearing through it with the uncaring claws of the Force, and the dragon screeched in pain, in protest, its movements slowing and its legs shaking in its agony. He gripped the beast's mind within his hands and calmly demanded its obedience, and the dragon's movements slowed, its violent screeching turning into low groans and growls of submission, and it slowly lowered itself to the ground, howling mournfully as it rested its head upon the rocks and rubble, its large eyes glazed and yellow with the touch of the Sith within him.

"Well..." Cody said from the floor as Obi-Wan dropped beside him. "All in all, that could have gone worse." He extended a hand to Boba Fett, the boy's helmet removed and looking at his father with disgust, embarrassed for him. "Help me up, boy."

" _Eww_ , no, I'm not touching you!" Fett said, hands in the air and backing up. "That is _disgusting_. You are never going to be clean again!"

"... _I killed a krayt dragon_!" the clone snapped, gasping loudly in surprise when Obi-Wan used the Force to bring him to his feet. "I get _sixty trillion_ points for that!" He pointed at the slain beast, the burning hole in the roof of its mouth still smoking, the hole going right up into its brain. "You can't beat that, son!"

"I can!" Fett snapped. "And I did, because tonight, I'll be clean, you will _never_ be able to wash that off! And let's not forget, you got strung up by your own jetpack!"

"I killed a _dragon_!"

"You're an embarrassment to Mandalore."

Cody rolled his eyes, following Obi-Wan as the Sith Lord slowly made his way to the dead krayt and drew his saber. "I'm getting too old for this," he grumbled, running his hand through his hair and flicking his wrist to shake the saliva off. "We got a plan, boss man?"

Kenobi nodded. "I'm bringing back two fangs for Luke and Leia," he said, igniting the saber and looking at the teeth he had to choose from. They were all enormous. It was going to be a long trip back to the _Umbra_. "I think we can safely say that Luke won't come under the threat of any krayt dragons."

"Not today, at least," Cody said, looking up into the sky at the twin suns as they slowly began to descend. What are you going to do with the big guy?" he asked, pointing at the dazed, submissive dragon. Obi-Wan shrugged.

"I may keep him. We'll have to see how easily he breaks next week."

Cody nodded. "We better get going. I don't want to be stuck out here when it's dark, and..." Cody frowned. "This shit's starting to dry and I feel... _sticky._ "

"I couldn't agree more," Obi-Wan said softly as he put the red blade to one of the teeth and began to cut through it. "I've got a sand castle to build."


	9. Holocron Heist

**AN:** **This one ended up being more fun than I expected. Really, it flew by. Good thing, too, since tonight is all about Zelda: Breath of the Wild OH MY GOD YOU GUYS!**

 **This one suggested by my special lovely EV the Werewolf over on . Thanks, buddy! This one was fun!**

 _Holocron Heist_

The Force was calm. Peaceful. Serene. All the things it should have been, all the things that, as of late, it _hadn't_ been. It had been turbulent and strained, its waters choppy and dangerous, and just beneath the surface lay an undercurrent so fast and powerful that one slip, one look beneath the water's waves, would see him pulled underneath. Perhaps it wasn't so for everyone, but for Jedi Master Eeth Koth, the Force had become a _very_ dangerous place.

For months, he had been on the run, hunted by a Sith Lord and his pet, a disturbingly dangerous droid - _cyborg_ , it's, _he's_ a cyborg - called Grievous, a creature programmed to fight Jedi, one that had learned proficiency with a lightsaber from one who was clearly skilled in a variety of forms, one that had the intelligence to change his programmed movements on a whim. He had been skilled enough to take on five Jedi at once, and he had killed _all of them_. Except for Koth, of course. When he was the only one left, the creature's master had arrived. A far more dangerous foe that knew he had won before the fight even began. The whole thing seemed a test, a trial for the cyborg to overcome, to display his abilities, one that he had passed spectacularly...but the Negotiator wanted to play.

 _The Negotiator. Obi-Wan Kenobi_.

He was supposed to be dead. Young Obi-Wan had died _years_ ago at the hands of Count Dooku when the Knight had _correctly_ deduced that he was a Lord of the Sith and left Coruscant to confront him. But there was no mistaking that it was _him_ , and in the shadows of his face blazed golden eyes, in his hand a lightsaber of bloody red, and in his soul... _darkness_ , deeper, more complete than Eeth had ever seen, ever _felt_ in anything. _Ever_. It nearly broke the Jedi Master to look upon the face of the young, promising Jedi, alive after all these years, and see beating within him the blackened heart of a Sith Lord, twisted and corrupted beyond saving, beyond redemption, beyond forgiveness, and though the Jedi Master didn't know anything that Kenobi had done in the past six years since his death, he could see the blood on his hands.

He fought with the Sith, but not for long. Shock had crippled him, and Kenobi was cold and focused on nothing but murder. So he ran. Through the riots, through the narrow streets of Kabal and out into the thick forests that surrounded the capital city, the Sith and the cyborg close upon his heels. He didn't know how he escaped their relentless pursuit. His memory of what had happened was... _fuzzy_. Unclear, uncertain, like a thick fog had settled on his mind and refused him access to the memories beyond. Even his recollection of the events of the riots was hazy at best. Had he even _seen_ Kenobi through the chaos and confusion? He knew he must have, he _knew_ what he saw, remembered the disbelief, the fear, the anger, and even through his clouded mind, he could see those eyes.

The _eyes_ , golden and glowing and terrible and _magnificent_ , like fire or a sun or a star that was blazing as it went supernova, bright and vibrant and _powerful_ , burning in brilliant destruction, a blaze of glory as it rocketed toward its end. It was the only thing within him he could see clearly, the calm of his mind penetrated by eyes that reflected in the mirror-perfect waters of the Force, rippling the surface with fire and passion and _hatred_ so strong, so cruel, it made Eeth's chest tighten with fear, his breath hitching in his meditations. He was powerless to stop it, though not for lack of trying, and as he shut his eyes tight in focus, a hand reached up from the waters to the shore where he stood, grabbed him firmly by the ankle, and pulled him underneath.

He was _drowning_ , or would be very soon, knew it to be true as darkness surrounded him, grasping him tightly in its embrace as it dragged him deeper and deeper within the Force, beyond the serenity of the Temple, the bustling Coruscant, the ravages of a galaxy at war, and unable to hold his breath any longer, his struggling not enough to dislodge the darkness that grasped him, Eeth Koth opened his mouth, exhaling as he screamed, and silent as water, black and poisonous, rushed in to fill his lungs. It was over. This is how he ended, drowned and left lifeless within a Force veined through with cold, so different from the warm, comfort he used to know.

He hit the ground _hard_ , the cold and the dark so oppressive as he lay upon the ground, coughing and shaking and sputtering as he tried to breathe, heaving to try and expel the water he knew he had inhaled, but there was nothing. He could breathe, but the tightness of his chest, the heaviness within his lungs remained. _Something_ was within him, and it wasn't leaving. It was...part of him, and with a shiver, Master Koth wondered if it had _always_ been this way. He suspected it did. He had never felt any different, had never felt peace and calm as he did now. The Jedi sought to find peace, and it was here, in his submission, that Eeth Koth found the coveted serenity that the Jedi Order strived to achieve.

He slowly opened his eyes, burning as they focused in the darkness, and he whimpered softly when he saw the fine, familiar black boots of the man standing before him. Struggling to his hands and knees, the Jedi sat back on his heels, his eyes downcast and moaning softly at the cold, commanding touch upon his head. He didn't need to look at his face to see the pleased amusement in those eerie golden eyes. He saw it, _felt it_ deep inside his mind, and he _hated it_.

"How's Temple life?" Darth Lumis asked, amusement staining his features when the Jedi groaned and clung to his leg, pressing helpless, desperate, _reluctant_ kisses to the inside of his thigh, the Jedi Master resisting as best as he was able, but it was for nothing. This Sith Lord had owned him a long time ago. "Everything you ever hoped for?"

"Y-you made a mistake..." Koth said weakly through grit teeth, his focus intensifying as he managed to release one hand from his grip on the Sith's leg, raised his hand to force him away...and howled in revulsion as he found himself lovingly stroking the amused Lord's strong stomach instead. "The Jedi will make me strong, they-"

" _When_. You've been gone for weeks, Koth, and they sense nothing amiss. Not even _Yoda_ can feel me within you." He grinned wickedly when the Jedi looked up and glared at him with dark, angry eyes, defiant and longing all at once. " _You_ don't even want me to leave you. Just _look at yourself_. Your consciousness, your very presence in the Force itself is _desperate_ for me."

"You must _love this_ ," Koth vehemently spat, shaking in rage as his rogue, disobedient hands clung desperately to the man that had made himself his Master. Lumis simply sighed in satisfaction.

"I must admit, it's nice to be wanted. Such a _rare_ feeling, especially from a Jedi. I never felt such from your lot when I was one of you." He flicked his hand in the air as if trying to dislodge something distasteful that clung to him. "Nothing but a cold, disinterested family, one that couldn't get rid of me soon enough. Thank the Force I got away when I did, you all would have _ruined me_."

"You've done that to yourself!" Eeth growled. "The Jedi would have made you _great_ , and you have chosen the path of selfish corruption!"

"I embraced my passion," Lumis softly explained, his hand stroking the Zabrak's head, and it was suddenly far more difficult for the Jedi to focus on his resistance. "The Jedi would have taken everything from me just to give me something I have taken for myself. They would have stripped me of the emotions, the _passions_ that make me who I am." He hooked his fingers under the Jedi's chin and forced him to look him in the eye, a slight smirk on his face when he saw the struggle within him. He was resisting him still, yes, but it was swiftly fading. "Can you deny the truth of this?"

" _Yes_." Lumis scoffed.

"So like a Jedi to blindly turn your eyes from the truth..." He released Koth, viciously pushing him away and watching with cold disdain as the Jedi groaned upon the floor. "And I had sacrificed _so much_ for the Jedi..." Lumis growled dangerously. "I fell in love with a woman, strong and passionate and _beautiful_ , a woman that was everything right with this galaxy. _Perfection_." He sighed wistfully before his golden eyes hardened once again. "And because the Jedi demanded it of me, I _left her_ for cold, dispassionate _peace_ , and you Jedi never told me that peace is a _lie_. I left her for _nothing_."

"Peace _can_ be achieved, Obi-Wan!" Koth desperately said, looking back at the furious Sith Lord, holding himself up on shaking arms that threatened to give way at a moment's notice. "It isn't easy. It takes time, work, _dedication_ , steadfast resolve and-"

"Jedi half truths and lies..." Lumis quietly hissed. "I killed a Lord of the Sith for you. I saved the Jedi Master that betrayed me. I went in search of our ancient enemy so that we may finally defeat them, only to be hindered at every turn because my... _feelings_ were misguided." He flashed the Jedi a bright, easy smile. "But my feelings _weren't_ wrong, were they? My emotions guided me to truth, and the Force took my hand and brought me to darkness..."

" _You_ chose this!" the Jedi snarled, attempting to rise to his feet and failing. "Don't blame your twisted, _corrupted_ view of the Force for actions that _you chose_!"

"No, you're right," Lumis said, not unkindly. "I did choose this. And I would choose it again. My eyes have been opened, and the Jedi are _wrong_. If there is not passion, there is _nothing_." He smirked. "And look at me now. I've cast aside the Jedi and I have power beyond anything I could have achieved as a Jedi. I am wanted, _treasured_ by a new Master, unlike anything the Jedi could have _ever_ given me. I've returned to the woman I love, my perfect _goddess_ , and I have from her now something the Jedi would have _never_ allowed." Lumis grinned, his arms outstretched. "Tell me, Eeth, what exactly is it I've lost by embracing the Dark Side that you Jedi so wrongly fear?"

" _Everything_." Lumis laughed out loud.

"The way I see it, all I've lost is a persistent sense of _boredom_. I have everything I ever wanted." He looked at the Jedi with something that Eeth thought was almost pity. "But you are right, if only slightly. Peace _can_ be achieved." He extended his hand toward the Jedi, his fingers splayed. "There is no peace, not for the Sith, not for the truly powerful, but for everyone else, those that are destined to serve us..." A crushing weight fell upon Etth Koth's shoulders, forcing him back to the ground and penetrating his entire being with frigid cold. "There is peace in your submission, _Jedi_ ," Lumis hissed, and Koth shut his eyes when he felt the dark hand of the Sith Lord within his pliant mind. "Submit, and know peace."

The pain was excruciating, but it didn't last long. He had been broken before, so, _so_ many times, more times than he could remember, and while he still did put up a resistance, any real fight had been sapped from him long ago. There were no defenses left to break through in the shattered remains of his mental walls, no strength left inside him to force the Sith Lord's hands out, to keep those long, cold fingers from reaching deep within him and grasp exactly what he wanted. The familiar feeling of pleasure seeped inside him as his mind gave way, and though he still held on to himself, still fought with all he had, the reward for submission, for complete obedience was far too great, and the harder he fought, the quicker his will seeped through his fingers as it fled him. It only took seconds for the Jedi to begin softly moaning for his Master, but while he struggled, it felt like an eternity.

"Are you there, Eeth?" Lumis asked softly, leaning over to look into the blank, hazy eyes of the Jedi Master, his gaze mindless as he looked into the face of the Sith Lord.

"Yes, Master..." Lumis drew up, a pleased smirk on his face.

"Then hear me and obey. There are Sith holocrons deep in the holocron vault within your Temple, accessible only by the Jedi Masters of the Council." He flashed the unfocused, enthralled Jedi an easy, arrogant smile. "Which you are. Or were, I suppose, but I don't think you will have trouble gaining access. Enter the vault, retrieve the Sith holocrons, and anything else that calls to you."

"I won't fail you in this, Master..."

"See that you don't." Gold eyes searched the Jedi's face for something, _anything_ that may give an indication of any form of resistance, and rogue thoughts or pesky scrap of will that remained, anything that could foil his plans or expose him, but he found nothing. The Jedi was his, completely, gratefully, _willingly_ his, or as willing as a broken slave could be. "When you have succeeded, get a ship and return to Mustafar. Reach out to me when your task is done so I know you're still alive."

"As you command, Master..."

"Go," Lumis said softly, pressing two fingers to Koth's forehead, and the Jedi Master fell back, through the ground he had been kneeling upon and into nothingness.

* * *

As his Master had said, gaining entrance to the deepest recesses of the holocron vault had been criminally easy. Eeth Koth felt nothing of it. The Jedi didn't know anything, couldn't _sense_ anything, couldn't feel the presence of the Sith Lord deep inside him. It was...a weakness, spoke to the Jedi's declining state, made him understand how easy it had been for the Sith Lord to destroy his mind, how willingly he submitted to a new, dark Master, and it felt...right. If the Jedi couldn't detect his enslavement to the Sith, then perhaps they weren't meant to know. The Dark Side of the Force protected Darth Lumis, and the Light Side neglected its Jedi tenders. This was the will of the Force, as his Master had said.

Even as he walked the long halls, countless rows of holocrons sitting safely in their individual vaults, he could feel the presence of Master Lumis in his mind, the passive observer making certain that his slave didn't stray, wasn't somehow tempted, had a sudden, foolish surge of resistance. Eeth knew he wouldn't. Why would he? His Master had a task he commanded him to complete, and it was the Jedi's duty to serve him. Defying him...wasn't even an option.

When he came to the door that protected the vault's innermost sanctum, Master Koth stood before it, emotionless and still as he waited for the automatic system to complete its scan of him, his sharp ears listening as the consoles whirred as they processed, and for a long while, nothing happened. Any number of things could have gone wrong. The hi-tech system may have already purged his biometrics from the system, given that he had been presumed dead, or at the very least _extremely_ missing, for months. His records may have simply been updated, revoking his status as a Master of the Council and therefore refusing him access. Or, even worse, perhaps the advanced system was somehow able to read that Koth's mind was not his own, that his body moved through the will of another, that a haze in his mind quietly filled with the words of a Sith.

That he was worse than fallen. That he was a slave to one who embraced the dark, and a part of him wished that the system _would_ discover his treachery before it was too late.

With a hiss, the doors slid open, the long hall beyond only lit by the faint blue glow of the holocrons. With a shiver, Eeth Koth stepped inside, his hands tightening around the straps of the bag that he wore upon his back. He walked slower here. The air was cooler, crisper, _older_ than the rest, a faint, musty smell hanging in the air an indication of how rarely this portion of the vault was accessed. He kept his senses open as he went, his fingertips lightly brushing the wall as he walked. Three times, he stopped, a faint pull from within him leading him to take a holocron from its place and put it delicately, reverently inside the bag. Jedi holocrons that the Force had led him to, three cubes that contained ancient secrets of the Jedi that, somehow, would now belong to the Sith. He... _hated_ it, but he knew it was right, and without sparing it much thought, Koth continued on.

He didn't know how long he had walked when the faint blue light gave way to red, but the end of the hallway called to him, exerting such a powerful draw for such a small section of the long, vaulted corridor. He felt...dizzy. Unsteady on his feet, like he was not a little intoxicated as he moved toward the red hallway. He didn't like this feeling. It felt too much like his Master, too much like being hopelessly drunk or dangerously high on drugs, and with a shaking hand, he reached out to touch the consoles beside the glowing, individual vaults, the drawers sliding open with a hiss and revealing the red pyramids within. He didn't know how many were inside the entirely of the vault, but upon this wall, there were nine.

Nine collections of Sith knowledge, dangerous and terrible uses of the Force, the manipulation and control of the Dark Side, everything detailing the full power of the Force. Koth wouldn't be able to open it. He wasn't sure any Jedi could. But Lumis could. Lumis would open them, would drink in the knowledge they had to pass on, would grow even stronger still, and through power, he would come to own more Jedi, morse slaves to his pleasure. And he would be... _beautiful_. More than he was now, possessing the awe-inspiring wonder of a storm as it slowly approached to bring death and destruction with it.

His shaking hands opened the vaults, laid the pyramids in the bag, and drew the straps to close it. Nine vaults upon the wall that now sat empty, the red glow of the area faded into shadow faintly lit by the bright blue of the Jedi cubes. All that was left now was escaping with his life so he could return to his Master, and Eeth already had a plan for that. It was forbidden for the holocrons archived within the vault to leave it, partly for safety, but mostly to ensure that knowledge was available when it was required. But this knowledge wasn't made readily available. It was far too dangerous, too advanced for just anyone to access that which laid sealed behind the Master's vault. Simply leaving was...not an option. Every alarm in the Temple would sound, the Temple Guardians would be summoned, and Koth would be slain or imprisoned, never to return to his Master again.

That...could not be allowed.

He took his lightsaber in his hands and activated it, the green blade humming for a moment before it was thrust into the wall, hissing as it cut through the thick metal of the vault's walls. Using the Force to move the heavy, cut circle, Eeth Koth stepped into the hole he had made, reaching out to move the discarded metal piece back into place behind him. It was a tight fit, but he was within the thick walls of the Temple, and using the inner workings of the systems that ran through the crawlspace, the Master slowly made his way down through the darkness, using the Force to guide his way.

It didn't take long for the systems to register that something was amiss within the holocron vault, and while the Jedi Temple Guardians and Master ran toward the Vaults to defend what was inside, Eeth Koth casually entered the hangar, took a ship, and flew away from Coruscant.


End file.
